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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225254">the blood is rare — (and sweet as cherry wine!)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heraurora/pseuds/heraurora'>heraurora</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Background Relationships, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Drinking, Eventual Fluff, Horseback Riding, M/M, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Mild Gore, Non-Graphic Smut, Science Fiction &amp; Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, also seonghwa wears a corset, jongsang if u squint, just a lot of quiet yearning, kind of a slow burn but also kind of not?, woosan are a very minor ship, yeah i've been playing too much assassin's creed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:14:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heraurora/pseuds/heraurora</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an indeterminate future, the unforgiving grittiness of what was once known as London spares no one from its harsh sting. With filth-ridden streets and rampant crime, not even the most sheltered of souls are able to be protected from the gory details — including Park Seonghwa, the only son of a family fortunate enough to be gifted with massive wealth in a time of great need.</p><p>After he is the sole witness to something he's never meant to see, he is forced into a bloody and violent rite of passage that demands more from him than he is ready to give, all while unearthing the city's darkest secret.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is dedicated to all of y'all that would smack ur neck and tell a vampire to come get their juice. my kindred spirits</p><p>here's ur reminder to check the author's note before every chapter for specific content warnings that are NOT included in the tags !! this fic is going to be very bloody and gritty, so if ur sensitive to things like that, i would proceed carefully !!</p><p>i also want to give a big Phat shoutout to @cchaiart on twt for her atz steampunk piece,, it was a huge inspiration THANK U CARMAN</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was hard to distinguish just when London had begun to die.</p><p>The characteristics of the city's death were what made it so difficult to follow — it was not a swift descent, as if its executioner had let loose the blade of a guillotine, nor was it followed by the behaviors typical of those in their very last moments. Rather than allowing itself to decay and disappear into the ground as any well-mannered relic would, it continued to believe that it was still alive, clinging to the last breaths of what London once was without ever knowing that its time was long past.</p><p>From its restless ashes rose Ambrosted, named by those who pioneered the city's resurgence with a new wave of industry, no longer wishing to associate themselves with the name that the ancients had picked so many years before them. It was on their backs that they carried London's memory while simultaneously trying to kill it to replace it with something more — something better. Brand new factories that whistled with steam sprung up from the ground and filled the streets with technology like no one had ever seen before, carrying the promise of a bright and dazzling new age fashioned from gold and silver.</p><p>No city with a history like this one would ever know peace, however. Not truly.</p><p>Ambrosted was still a young city when the bodies began to be discovered in the heat of midsummer. They horrified many and fascinated a few — it was the disturbing manner in which they had been killed that garnered so much attention.</p><p>It was as if they had fallen prey to an animal attack. They were found in pools of blood, torn to pieces, their entrails ripped from them and often laying a few feet away while not a single trace of evidence was left behind. It was the precision that was the most chilling detail. The question of the killer's psychology was brought to light, asked by those who would never understand what could cause someone to commit such atrocious acts.</p><p>In the concerns of the public, the brutality did not frighten them.</p><p>The locations of the bodies did.</p><p>One woman, who remained nameless, was discovered in her bedroom, only known once the sheets of her bed were pulled away and the shocking sight was revealed.</p><p>A young man was found in a hotel washroom.</p><p>An elder, just outside the back window in a garden.</p><p>Three at once, young inventors splayed out across a luxurious living room sofa.</p><p>Each one of their families, should they be present, claimed that they did not emit a single sound and that they would have never guessed they were befalling such an ill fate.</p><p>Park Seonghwa was a boy of only eleven, the untouchable youngest son of a renowned inventor, when he discovered why his neighbors locked their doors and boarded up their windows.</p><p>He was somewhere he should not have been, peeking past the boundaries of a crime scene that occurred a floor above his own, staring death in the face for the very first time as it came from the lifeless eyes of his best friend's mother.</p><p>Years later, at twenty-one, he came to find it again.</p><p>And this time, death stared back.</p><p>✣</p><p>Seonghwa had seen a bird once.</p><p>A real one — not one made of twisted wires with bronze wings that glinted in the sunlight. He had been a child then, with a perfectly new set of ears that had not yet known the screech of scraping metal from a poorly oiled machine. He'd even stopped to listen to it sing as it filled the voids of Ambrosted's streets with sweet music.</p><p>The one that stared at him from outside the window of his study was certainly not that bird.</p><p>When it opened its mouth to emit a mechanical squawk at the sight of him, he thrust open the window and sent it flying in alarm. It dove into hiding on the slanted rooftop of a neighboring building, preening its metallic feathers and clicking its golden beak with displeasure.</p><p>Seonghwa narrowed his eyes as he stepped away from the window. He left it open to allow entry for a cool breeze that rustled the papers of his leather-bound journal, laid across his desk. Diminishing traces of the sunset shone through the glass and cast a burning glow upon the yellowed pages, and for a moment, Seonghwa believed in some form of magic; one that would cause his classwork to write itself under the influence of the sun.</p><p>Of course, he should never be so lucky.</p><p>Just as the low rumble of a steam-powered locomotive resonated somewhere deep within the city, a soft knock sounded against the door to his study. He seated himself at once and picked up his pen to give off the illusion that he was staying busy. Clearing his throat, he lifted his head and spoke.</p><p>"Come in!"</p><p>The door opened with a creak and he recognized the cadence of the footsteps that entered. He did not have to look up to know who it was; the sound of their voice was a mere confirmation.</p><p>"Stop your pretending, you know it's just me."</p><p>Seonghwa finally turned to look over his shoulder and was greeted by the smiling face of Choi San, who had carelessly left the door standing wide open in his wake. His closest friend graced him with his presence every single day, and yet, he had still not learned to close the door behind him.</p><p>"Shut the door!" Seonghwa ordered, gesturing to it with the end of his pen. "Should my darling mother decide to pay me a visit and thinks for even a moment that I'm not working, she'll have my head."</p><p>San arched an eyebrow as he quietly shut the door, a smirk playing on his lips. "So you mean to tell me you're not <em>always</em> working? This is a surprise..."</p><p>"You must think you're hilarious," Seonghwa said, words dripping with sarcasm. Nonetheless, he gave up the act, closing his journal and turning in his seat to face San. He had not noticed it before, but once he was able to really look at him, he found that his friend was a sight to behold; he was dressed to the nines in a dark tailcoat and dress shirt with a silver-patterned paisley vest, paired with a golden chain. His blonde hair had been styled neatly away from his face and Seonghwa was taken aback at the sight of him, but in a most pleasant way.</p><p>"Wherever are <em>you </em>off to?" He furrowed his brow, resting his arms on the back of his chair. "You didn't tell me you would be about the town."</p><p>It was subtle, but he could not miss the tinge of pink that colored San's cheeks. He cleared his throat, glancing down at himself like he'd forgotten what he was wearing.</p><p>"I did tell you," he replied matter-of-factly, "and you told me that you would be up here all night to study. So I'm here to ask you once more if you want to enjoy your youth and come with me and Wooyoung tonight."</p><p>The memories of a previous conversation came flooding back to Seonghwa. How could he forget that San had finally managed to score a date with the darling of their university following months of pining after him? He had been invited to come along, and had rejected the invitation. San, however, did not accept denial so easily.</p><p>"From the bottom of my heart, I am very happy for you," Seonghwa said, placing a theatrical hand on his chest, "but I have little interest in watching the two of you snog all night."</p><p>"You will not even ask someone else out and we can go together? What about Hyunjin? He fancies you, does he not?"</p><p>Seonghwa scoffed, placing his chin comfortably on his arms.</p><p>"Hyunjin fancies many. I don't think even he knows who he wants."</p><p>San's face fell, and the pit of Seonghwa's stomach twisted with discomfort. He let out a sigh and rose from his chair to face his friend, leaning back against his desk.</p><p>"Consider it an opportunity to get to know him better without interruption."</p><p>San rolled his eyes, but they became alight with humor. He stepped forward to take Seonghwa's hands in his own, and the taller male groaned dramatically at the contact.</p><p>"Promise me that you and I will spend time together soon."</p><p>"Must you hold me hostage like this?"</p><p>"I want to hear you promise me!"</p><p>Seonghwa noised in protest once more, but he could not help but smile as he tightened his grip on San's hands, cupping his own securely over them in a manner that emulated complete seriousness.</p><p>"I promise you that you and I will see each other again once I have passed my tests."</p><p>San squeezed his hand and laughed.</p><p>"Park Seonghwa, you will one day be a frail old man, and you will wish that you were kinder to yourself in your youth."</p><p>"That may be," Seonghwa hummed, "and I can only hope that I will be old and frail with a most impressive degree. Off with you."</p><p>He released San's hands to shoo him out the door and elicited another laugh from him. Before he could shut the door, San wedged the toe of his shoe in the crack to stop it, pressing his face to the doorframe.</p><p>"If you do not hear from me again tonight, assume that it is going <em>very </em>well."</p><p>"You're nasty," Seonghwa informed him. "Goodbye."</p><p>Finally, he shut the door, and San was still laughing as he walked away. Seonghwa allowed himself a sigh as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>His chance to put on his best clothes for a night of youthful merriment had come and gone, and he had turned it down both times.</p><p>Why was it that he only regretted these decisions once they had already been made?</p><p>Pinching the bridge of his nose, he straightened, shaking dark hair out of his face in an attempt to bring himself back to reality. The journal laying closed on his desk had pages full of unfinished and unstudied diagrams of automatons, and it would serve as his only companion for the night. Thoughts of escaping through the window just before him swam about his head, but he paid them no mind; instead, he sank down in his chair, blinking away the glare of the sunset and taking his pen in his hand.</p><p>Silently, he wished that the metal bird would come back.</p><p>✣</p><p>By the time Seonghwa was finally comfortable enough to free himself from the pages of his journal and lay his pen back down, his hand was spotted with ink and the moon hung high over his head, shining brilliantly through his window. The light of a single candle placed on the corner of his desk served to aid him in the dark, but he had come to find that it was not needed as the night progressed. Nonetheless, it stayed alight, and continued to flicker as he stood from his chair and winced at the pain in his joints.</p><p>An idle click sounded from the wooden clock placed upon his wall and he turned his head to look at the time. It was night — that much was clear to him — but just how long he had kept himself awake for the sake of academia had remained a mystery, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a few hours until midnight rather than absurdly and unacceptably late.</p><p>A large portion of time had passed since San's visit to his study, but surely it would not be too late to dress himself and leave campus for a night on the town. It could be a pleasant surprise for his friend and a chance to enjoy himself. Did he not deserve it, after all the work he'd done that evening? To hell with it — he could even go ask Hyunjin to accompany him!</p><p>The battle within his head was a short-lived one. After only a moment's worth of thought, he smiled and began to unbutton his shirt, opening the door to his study and stepping out into his bedroom. He cast his old clothes carelessly about the floor and pulled his wardrobe open to run his fingers over the fabrics of his finest clothing, some that he had never worn. They were beautiful, carefully-made shirts, and they had stayed hidden within his room for far too long.</p><p>He was still fumbling with the buttons of a beige single-breasted vest when he stepped out into the corridor of his dormitory. The floor creaked beneath him and he inwardly winced — should he be discovered wandering about this late by the campus's security, composed entirely of metal men who would not soften even if he apologized, there was no way to discern just how much trouble he would find himself in.</p><p>Hyunjin's room was merely a floor below his own. Getting there would be swift, silent, and painless.</p><p>It would have to be, anyway.</p><p>Frequenting these halls as often as he did had gifted him with the ability to know what floorboards creaked and how to diligently avoid them. He could not help but smile at his own cleverness, sliding his hand down the banister of a staircase and listening for the telltale squeak of a lantern, swinging back and forth in the hand of an automaton. When he did not hear it, he advanced with confidence into the next hall, greeted by a line of labeled doors that opened into dorm rooms. Second thoughts flashed at the forefront of his mind, and he silenced them; it was much too late to turn back now.</p><p>Taking his lower lip in between his teeth, he moved forward at a snail's pace to make his way further down the hall. He questioned if Hyunjin would even still be awake at this hour as he searched for his door, labeled '13,' and whether or not he may have already gone out just like San in an attempt to enjoy his youthfulness. Seonghwa wrinkled his nose at the thought — how he hated being the one to miss out on everything.</p><p>Door 13 was at the end of the hall, and though moonlight illuminated the way for him, Seonghwa did not know that it was ajar until he was only an arm's-length away from it. He blinked in surprise and drew his hand away from the knob. It was already open, even if just a crack, barely enough for him to see inside. He was not met with complete silence on the other side of the door, and instead heard the popping of a phonograph. It startled him, but it suggested that Hyunjin was awake.</p><p>Softly, he knocked on the door with one knuckle, edging it open just enough to peek inside.</p><p>"Hyunjin?"</p><p>When he received no response, a chill ran down his back like a drop of ice water had been placed at the base of his spine. It was all beginning to look very strange, and his stomach was twisting in a familiar way.</p><p>"Hyunjin, I'm coming in."</p><p>God, he was going to look like a fool if no one was there. Shouldering past the door, he stepped inside.</p><p>At once, his expression contorted in distaste at a metallic smell. He wrapped his arms around himself in an act of protection against the room's chill as he investigated the bed only to find that it was empty. The phonograph on the nightstand played faint opera music, and it filled the room's silence, though its owner was still nowhere to be found.</p><p>When cold air breezed past his face, he turned his head to find the origin and stared into the open door of Hyunjin's own study. How he had not noticed it immediately, he wasn't certain, but only then was he able to make out the dark shape of someone slumped over on the desk.</p><p>"Hyunjin," he breathed, relief flooding his senses. "Wake up, stupid, you left your door open."</p><p>Hyunjin did not stir, and Seonghwa could only guess that he had fallen asleep in the midst of studying. Shaking his head, he stepped into the boy's study, disturbed by the messiness of it.</p><p>"Just anyone can walk in, you know!"</p><p>He laid a hand on his shoulder to rouse him, and it came away wet. Brow furrowed, he withdrew as if he'd been burned, and a glance at his palm would find it dark.</p><p>He did not register that it was blood, not until he looked again and it traveled down his arm in a single line.</p><p>It pooled at his feet and it stained the pages of open books, placed beneath Hyunjin's head where his eyes were open and his mouth was agape in a dreadful look of terror.</p><p>The blood was everywhere; it touched every corner of the room and it pounded violently in Seonghwa's ears as he placed his hands over his mouth and stumbled back, catching himself in the doorway before he could fall.</p><p>Seonghwa was somewhere he should not have been, only twenty-one and peeking past the boundaries of a crime scene that occurred a floor below his own, staring death in the face for the second time in his life.</p><p>This time, death stared back at him, and it was far too close.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hyunjin's blood clung to the skin of Seonghwa's palm like a plague he could not shake.</p><p>His shoulders had taken on an incessant trembling, a sensation he couldn't seem to stop, and he felt ill — terribly ill. Not the "head cold" sort of ill that he anticipated with the arrival of each winter, but rather the sinking sort that anchored itself deep within him, the sort that would leave one with an incurable sense of dread.</p><p>Hyunjin was gone. <em>Dead </em>gone. That much was clear to him. Once he sought out the campus security that he had tried so desperately to avoid, they referred to him as "the boy in room 13" in metallic voices that were painstakingly unfeeling. It was no fault of their own, but Seonghwa's stomach churned each time he heard it. It did not take them long to determine that the murder of a student was far above their pay grade, and in due time, the campus was swarming with the inner city's police force. Shortly after their arrival, Seonghwa was escorted outside by an officer of high ranking who guided him to a horse-drawn carriage that opened its door for him. The commotion had drawn a crowd; a throng of his classmates gathered in the courtyard, and their eyes followed him as he left.</p><p>At the station, the officers were kind to him. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and he was offered a cup of hot tea, one that he quietly denied. He knew he would not be able to stomach it.</p><p>He could not stop shaking.</p><p>Even under the watchful eyes of the police chief, he could not stop shaking, and he wondered if it made him look guilty.</p><p>After every drag on his cigar, Bang Yongguk would tap the excess ashes into a tray at his side, and Seonghwa memorized the pattern of the repetitive movement as it occurred before him. The dim, burning light of the cigar would glint in his nametag, then he would drag. Tap. Glint. Drag. The smell made his head swim.</p><p>"I need you to describe to me just what you saw, Mr. Park."</p><p>Seonghwa blinked; he had forgotten where he was. The chief of police was seated across from him, and he had asked him a question.</p><p>Uncomfortably, he shifted in his chair.</p><p>"Hyunjin... d - dead... sir," he said, and he could barely hear himself. "He was... he was dead wh - when I came in, I think."</p><p>Tap. Glint. Drag. Yongguk's chest rose and fell with a breath, and Seonghwa thought of the boy in room 13.</p><p>"Did you see anyone else?"</p><p>"No," he murmured.</p><p>"Does he have a roommate that could have seen anyone else?"</p><p>"No. We... n - no roommates, we don't have them."</p><p>Yongguk furrowed his brow. There was a pause in the rhythm of his movement as he held his cigar at a standstill beside his head, considering Seonghwa with a gaze that fixed upon him.</p><p>"My investigators tell me that his window was open. Is this true?"</p><p>Wordlessly, Seonghwa nodded. He could no longer find it within himself to speak.</p><p>Yongguk let out a deep sigh. Something troubled him; something deeper than this murder. Seonghwa could not place just what it was, only able to watch as the police chief twisted the end of his cigar into the ashtray and began to turn the dial on the phone at the corner of his desk.</p><p>"Step outside, Mr. Park," he said, and gestured to the door. "Your parents are here."</p><p>Seonghwa's face flushed pink. The statement reminded him of getting picked up from school as a child. At once, he rose from his seat, adjusting the blanket when it dropped off of his shoulder. He stepped outside of the office, and the door closed behind him.</p><p>The station was bustling with activity, but he was able pick out his mother's voice from within any crowd. Sunyoung could be heard over the noise of an entire stadium should she wish to be, and when she demanded to see her son, she made certain that the officers were hearing her. Once he met her eyes from across the room, she took in a sharp gasp, bunching her dress in her hands to hurry to his side. Just behind her, his father followed. A pair of protective goggles rested atop Jeongsu's dark hair; he'd been taken from his work.</p><p>"Are you hurt?!" His mother's hands cupped his face and her eyes searched him for even the smallest bruise. Quickly, he shook his head, and she allowed herself a long, shaking sigh.</p><p>"We got the phone call, and it was so late... m - my God, I thought..."</p><p>She silenced, and Jeongsu laid a hand on her shoulder. Seonghwa felt his father's gaze when he stared at him, piecing through his son's expression in hopes of being able to read it when finally, he spoke.</p><p>"What happened, Seonghwa?"</p><p>His voice was impossibly quiet.</p><p>
  <em>What happened?</em>
</p><p>It was such a simple question, and it sent Seonghwa back many years. He felt like a boy again; only eleven, wandering past the boundaries of a freshly-discovered crime scene. Tears burned his eyes, and he furiously blinked them away.</p><p>He was somewhere he should not have been.</p><p>He tried to keep from alerting his mother, but there was little he could ever slip past her. She must have known that the tears were coming before he did, seeing as she was already pulling him closer to her before he'd ever mustered up an answer. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat and left him as a pathetic whimper, muffled within the fabric of Sunyoung's dress as she threaded her fingers through his hair.</p><p>"It wasn't San, was it?"</p><p>The question that Jeongsu uttered was born from genuine concern; Seonghwa knew that. Nonetheless, his chest tightened at the thought.</p><p>"No," he managed, shaking his head. "N - no, not... not San."</p><p>For all he knew, San was still parading himself about the town, mingling with the city's nightlife with Wooyoung on his arm. It was unlikely that he even knew yet, and the taste of envy was a bitter thing on Seonghwa's tongue.</p><p>He should not have denied him.</p><p>"All that matters is that you're safe," Sunyoung murmured, placing her hands on Seonghwa's face once more to cradle him as if he was a baby all over again. "You're coming home, darling. I won't have you there — not after this."</p><p>As if on cue, the police chief's door was opened to reveal his figure in the threshold. The phone had been hung up, and he was looking at Seonghwa like he had something to say to him, merely struggling to find the words in the silence that fell between them.</p><p>"Mr. Park," he finally began, avoiding the eyes of his parents, "before I am able to send you home, I'll have to ask you to wait here for the arrival of another investigator. What you've witnessed... he will be able to help you."</p><p>Sunyoung arched an eyebrow. "Who?"</p><p>Yongguk visibly winced.</p><p>"... Ma'am, we will be directing him to Kim Hongjoong."</p><p>"No."</p><p>The hardness of her voice took Seonghwa by surprise. Rapidly, he blinked.</p><p>"Mrs. Park, he specializes in this form of crime," Yongguk continued. "He will be able to assist your son in far better ways than we can."</p><p>"My son will not be speaking with that... that... that <em>fraud," </em>Sunyoung hissed. "He speaks of things that are impossible. We would have better luck consulting a witch doctor."</p><p>"Sunyoung," Jeongsu murmured.</p><p>"We have reason to believe that the information Seonghwa can provide will be of most use when it is told to Hongjoong. Regarding crimes of this fashion, there is very little that <em>we </em>can do."</p><p>Yongguk had dropped all formalities in his frustration, evident on his brow. As he raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, Sunyoung began to speak, and Seonghwa quickly laid a hand on her arm.</p><p>"I'll speak with whoever I need to, Mama," he mumbled.</p><p>"I have heard of his work on these cases and he talks of nonsense." Sunyoung narrowed her eyes, bitterness plaguing her voice like she carried the weight of a personal vendetta against the man. "His theories on these killers... they're nothing short of ridiculous. I fail to see how he will be of any help to us."</p><p>Yongguk passed them by at a brisk pace, and it was not long after that the scent of another cigar filled the room. He was troubled; overwhelmingly troubled.</p><p>"Anything will help," Seonghwa said softly. His father did not voice his agreement, but his view was clear in the way he glanced at Seonghwa out of the corner of his eye in a gesture of quiet acknowledgement. Sunyoung bristled, but she argued with him no further.</p><p>Awaiting Hongjoong's arrival was akin to one holding their breath as a time bomb ticked beneath their feet. The thought of not knowing what to expect in a situation as dire as this one could do nothing but fray Seonghwa's nerves to the point that he was certain they looked like the ends of weathered ropes, cast about in the wind and one hard tug away from falling to pieces. His mother would have liked to believe that she knew what was coming, but she was as much in the dark as he was; her furrowed brow and the relentless biting of her lower lip made this evident. Each time he met her eyes, she smiled, and it was forced.</p><p>"It's alright, darling," she told him.</p><p>She did not sound convinced, like she hardly believed it herself.</p><p>Yongguk was a spectre within his own station, ghosting about the halls and passing in and out of rooms with his cigar puffing sickly-sweet smoke into the air until a frantic knock sounded against the door and he was corporeal again, moving quickly to answer it. Alarmed by his quickness, Seonghwa's eyes widened as they followed him. The police chief's form at the door obscured Seonghwa's vision. He strained to see past him as he addressed the newcomer, the tension leaving his shoulders with one slow drag.</p><p>"Sounds like one of yours," he said. "Maybe you'll know what to do with him."</p><p>Overcome with an eagerness to make himself known, Seonghwa broke away from his parents. His own burst of energy surprised him, and it seemed to do the same to Yongguk, who flinched at finding him just over his shoulder. Yongguk opened his mouth as if to introduce the two, but was quickly cut off by the man at the door nudging him aside like it was nothing.</p><p>"Park Seonghwa?"</p><p>For a moment, all Seonghwa could do was stare.</p><p>The man before him was remarkably striking in his features with stark white hair that was pulled away from his eyes in a loose topknot. His face was flushed a vivid shade of pink from the chill of the air outside, though it did not seem to disturb the rest of him. A long coat swept around his knees and a golden pocket watch dangled from his belt, though Seonghwa found his attention immediately drawn to the leather bracers on his arms; they begged the question of just what he could need them for.</p><p>Finally, he nodded, albeit slowly.</p><p>"I'm Kim Hongjoong," he said, and thrust his hand out for a shake. Seonghwa reciprocated, blinking in surprise when the man's fingers curled around his own in a gesture that emulated sincerity. Despite the weather, they were warm.</p><p>"I would first like to say that I am so sorry for the things you have witnessed tonight. It is nothing that anyone should ever have to see."</p><p>His voice was gentle; unexpectedly so, from an investigator as highly anticipated as he was. He bore the weight of his apology as if he was personally responsible for every single thing that had happened that night, and Seonghwa did not know what to make of such a genuine remark. He replied with a wordless nod. Hongjoong released his hand, and it dropped back down to his side. The tips of Seonghwa's fingers buzzed from the contact and he was tempted to stare at them just to be sure he was still real.</p><p>"We have much to discuss with one another," Hongjoong continued, "but not here. This is not the place for it. Walk with me?"</p><p>There was a muted hurriedness about him. He was already shifting his weight towards the door before Seonghwa had ever nodded his answer, and it was opened with a swiftness once the request had been accepted. Nonetheless, the door was held for him to pass through first, and his foot had just barely touched the cobblestone street when his ever-attentive mother was alerted.</p><p>"Seonghwa? Where are you going?"</p><p>"We cannot talk here, Mama," he replied. "I'm going with him."</p><p>Already, she had stood and crossed to the door, her hand rested on the frame. They were a mere arm's-length away from each other, and yet the way she stared at him would suggest they had been forced miles apart.</p><p>"M - must... must you leave? Why is it that you can't stay here?"</p><p>"To speak of the situation here is unsafe, Mrs. Park." Hongjoong's eyes flitted between the two of them. "It is best discussed somewhere far more secure."</p><p>Seonghwa reached out to close his hand around hers and offer it a reassuring squeeze. She faltered, her countenance soured by concern.</p><p>"You and Father go home and get rest," he murmured. "I will come home if I am able."</p><p>"Seonghwa—"</p><p>"I will go wherever I have to in order to see this killing solved. Goodnight, Mama. Sleep well."</p><p>Not another word was uttered between them as he stepped away from the door and into the cool air of the night. Ahead of him, Hongjoong gestured for him to follow, and he easily fell into step with the man despite the briskness of his pace.</p><p>"She cares for you much," Hongjoong said, his voice soft. Despite himself, Seonghwa managed a smile.</p><p>"... she is too protective."</p><p>He had not once questioned where they were going, and he still could not bring himself to ask. Stopped at the end of the street was the outline of a brougham carriage, bathed in silver moonlight and driven by a slender form who kept a tight hold on the horse's reins. Upon closer inspection, Seonghwa found that the animal blinked golden eyes and breathed steam while traces of light beamed through the crevices in its bronze body.</p><p>"Is there any way we may walk?" He turned to look at Hongjoong, his stomach churning. "Another carriage... I fear I may be sick."</p><p>Hongjoong breezed ahead to pull the carriage door open. At the sight of him, the driver straightened in their seat, holding the reins in their lap.</p><p>"Unfortunately, our destination would not be a short walk," he said. "But you will be taken care of. We will move slowly."</p><p>Hongjoong looked over his shoulder and outstretched his hand to Seonghwa. After a moment's hesitation, he accepted the aid, acutely aware of his skin's warmth beneath the leather bracer as he lifted himself up into the carriage. The velvet material that formed the seat welcomed him as if it had been awaiting his arrival. Behind him, Hongjoong followed closely, shutting the door and loosening the curtains to allow no view inside or out. Once he was seated just across from him, Seonghwa realized how little room there was; their knees were touching.</p><p>"Sunwoo," Hongjoong called, rapping his knuckles against the wood above his head. "Go slow."</p><p>The carriage lurched forward as the horse was prodded to move at a steady trot and Seonghwa wrapped his arms around his stomach, dipping his head low to stare at the floor. It was the least he could do to keep his head from swimming.</p><p>"Easy," Hongjoong murmured. "Have this."</p><p>Seonghwa blinked when a flask was offered to him just under his nose. Furrowing his brow, he sniffed it for any trace of an alcoholic scent and came up with nothing.</p><p>"You're not even going to offer me vodka after everything that has happened to me?"</p><p>Even in the dark, Hongjoong's smile was clear.</p><p>"It's better. Go on."</p><p>Desperation overruled Seonghwa's skepticism and he took the flask. He gave it a slow sip, then tipped his head back for a hard swallow. It was better than he thought it would be, with a rich honeyed flavor that warmed him from head to toe and calmed the storm that raged in the pit of his stomach. He handed it back to Hongjoong, who strapped it to a garter on his thigh.</p><p>"What is that?" He asked, and Hongjoong's hand ghosted over it.</p><p>"No name for it yet," he replied. "It's not my recipe, but it cures nausea faster than any medicine I've ever seen."</p><p>Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgement; he supposed he was right. Already, he felt far more stable on his own feet.</p><p>"... may I ask where we're going?"</p><p>He had allowed the question to lay in wait on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the night until he was finally ready to ask it, only after he'd allowed himself to be swept into a carriage with a stranger. Just before him, Hongjoong adjusted his position in his seat.</p><p>"My estate," he responded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I keep a small team of others, plus myself, who are equipped to see to the type of situation you've found yourself in. You will be safe there, more so than you would be at the station."</p><p>Seonghwa arched an eyebrow. "A team of investigators?"</p><p>"... Something like that."</p><p>He made no move to explain himself further, and Seonghwa knew that it was in his best interest not to pry. Quietly, he cleared his throat.</p><p>"And what makes it safer than a police station? I thought that would be the most secure place in the city."</p><p>He received no immediate answer. Hongjoong had silenced, his hands folded in his lap and his gaze cast towards the dim moonlight that slipped through the thin curtains. He had strange eyes, though pleasantly so; Seonghwa found it hard to look away from him.</p><p>"I can promise that all of your questions will be answered once we arrive," He finally said, leaning back against his seat. "Until then, allow your heart what rest it can take."</p><p>"My heart does not rest so easily after what I've seen."</p><p>Hongjoong lifted his head to meet his eyes with a quickness that made Seonghwa flinch. He paused, his tongue held by some unknown force that kept him from saying anything more. He could only follow the motion of Hongjoong's hand, watching as it was offered to him. Slowly, he placed his own over it, and slender fingers curled reassuringly around him. Still, they were warm.</p><p>"You are safe here," Hongjoong whispered. "Everything will be taken care of. Please, rest."</p><p>Hongjoong released his hand, though his fingertips dragged against his skin. Seonghwa pulled stagnantly away from him and laid his palm against the velvet seat, rocking his head back to let out a heavy breath.</p><p>He was tired, and he would rest for as long as he was able, even if it was beneath the watchful eyes of a stranger.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so sorry for the late update u guys!! work has been taking up a lot of my time but i'm still going!! &gt;&lt;<br/>also a quick shameless self plug,, my twt acc is @PR0DBYMINKI if u guys want to reach out to me there &lt;3 i post a lot of mingi brainrot and i plan to talk a bit more abt my writing as well</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Though Seonghwa did not believe that it would be possible, the carriage's slow rocking and his temporary promise of safety had lulled him into a light and dreamless sleep. It was one that he easily awoke from as the carriage lurched forward again, brought to a stop and prompting his eyes to flutter open, blinking in the low light. He found that Hongjoong was still with him, and he watched him as he drew back the curtain to look outside before he turned to Seonghwa again.</p><p>"Here we are," he hummed. "How are you feeling?"</p><p>The nausea and rapid heart rate had subsided with time. Seonghwa was left only with the chill that gripped him, paired with a typical cold night in Ambrosted.</p><p>"Fine," he said, and nothing more. With a short nod, Hongjoong opened the carriage door and stepped onto the street outside, reaching out to Seonghwa. Slowly, he peeled himself away from the comfort of the velvet seat and accepted the man's offer, bounding easily down from the carriage and making himself familiar once more with how his legs worked.</p><p>"You did well, Sunwoo," Hongjoong said, addressing the driver whose face was still obscured by shadows. "Stable the horse and take yourself home."</p><p>A pouch that jingled with coins was placed in Sunwoo's hand and it was swiftly pocketed as he leapt down from the seat. The fumbling of straps detached the horse from the carriage, and Sunwoo grabbed its reins to lead it elsewhere. It let out a long puff of steam, and Seonghwa's eyes followed the animal as it moved past him, steel hooves clanging loudly against the ground.</p><p>"Caught with Midas, I see."</p><p>Seonghwa turned at the sound of Hongjoong's voice, speaking to him again. He waited by the carriage, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes fixed on Seonghwa.</p><p>"Midas," Seonghwa echoed, staring after the horse. "It's just... why, I think I have never seen anything like that in my life."</p><p>"No?" Hongjoong tilted his head. "You have not seen the birds?"</p><p>"I have seen the birds," Seonghwa said. "But... an animal so large, a - and made from bronze... it is unlike anything I have ever seen. I... study automatons, you know. How they are crafted. It is... beyond me how the horse is able to function, all its parts working together..."</p><p>Hongjoong smiled, gesturing for Seonghwa to follow him. They moved away from the carriage, and an estate most grand laid itself before Seonghwa's eyes. It was a large manor, protected by wrought-iron gates and decorated with hanging ivy and flower gardens that stretched on as far beyond the property as he could see. The windows were all dark, and the grounds were perfectly silent.</p><p>"It surprises me," Hongjoong mused, "that any form of invention surprises you, considering your parents. Park Jeongsu and Sunyoung, yes? Two very well-known inventors, and rather big names in the industry... their marriage made headlines."</p><p>The gates loomed high above both of their heads, and Hongjoong easily bested them with a sizable key. They opened with a grisly creak and allowed Seonghwa entry, where he fell into step at Hongjoong's side as they entered the manor's front lawn.</p><p>"I am familiar with household objects," Seonghwa explained, lowering his head to watch the ground. "The clocks, and the special glasses, and the self-washing dishes... it is the metal men and the airships that surprise me."</p><p>"Do you endeavor to follow in their footsteps?" Hongjoong turned to look at him. "Or do you dream of airships?"</p><p>Seonghwa thought he had a definite answer, but it died on his tongue once he began to speak it into existence. He paused, his expression crumbling beneath the weight of something unseen.</p><p>"I... will take after them, I imagine," he said softly.</p><p>He was grateful to find that they had made their way to the front door and the subject could be dropped. He did not wish to dwell on it any longer, though he also dreaded the topic that he knew he would be divulging in after just a few more minutes. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself and waited in silence as Hongjoong raised his hand and knocked on the door. Seonghwa waited for the sound to echo within the walls, so he would know if he had been led into some kind of trap, but it did not.</p><p>Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door and it was eventually opened. Before them in the threshold stood the small frame of a young man who looked as if he'd just been roused from sleep, his nightshirt tucked into loose pants and his eyes narrowed at them from behind disheveled blonde hair. Hongjoong offered him a smile, and it was not returned.</p><p>"Yeosang," he greeted. "I'm proud that you are so diligent in answering the door."</p><p>The blonde rolled his eyes before pointing down at their feet. At once, Hongjoong moved to pull his shoes off, and Seonghwa did the very same. Once their footwear was left on the top step, the door was finally pulled back by Yeosang to allow them room for entry. Seonghwa offered him a polite smile with a respectful dip of his head and was pleased to see both given back to him. As he stepped inside, his eyes swept over the manor's interior, taking in the vastness of the entrance hall with a sweeping staircase placed at the end, flanked by the drawing and dining rooms that both glowed with what appeared to be dying hearth fires.</p><p>Shrugging his coat off of his shoulders, Hongjoong hung it up by the door which was closed and locked behind him. He took in a deep breath as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and unfastened the leather bracers that adorned his arms. Seonghwa found himself staring at him, only quickly looking away when Hongjoong lifted his head again to address him.</p><p>"Seonghwa, this is Yeosang," he introduced, nodding towards the man. "He's a part of my team that I mentioned to you briefly."</p><p>Seonghwa turned to him with a smile identical to the one he'd showed him moments prior. "It's lovely to meet you," he said with a short bow, his arm placed across his stomach. "You have a beautiful home."</p><p>Yeosang placed a flattered hand on his chest as he bent slightly at the waist to mirror Seonghwa's gesture. Hongjoong chuckled softly, and Seonghwa turned to look at him.</p><p>"What's funny?" He queried, arching an eyebrow, and Hongjoong grinned.</p><p>"Well, it's <em>my </em>beautiful home, truly, but I'm certain Yeosang likes to hear it."</p><p>Seonghwa noised a soft 'tch,' though his cheeks colored.</p><p>"<em>You </em>have a beautiful home, then."</p><p>"Ah... it's a roof over the head," Hongjoong hummed, gently moving past him as he faced Yeosang. "I assume the other two have gone up to bed?"</p><p>Wordlessly, Yeosang nodded, then narrowed his eyes into a glare. Hongjoong allowed himself a good-natured laugh.</p><p>"I release you, then. Sleep well, my friend."</p><p>Yeosang wasted no time in turning on his heel to make his way up the staircase. The boards creaked beneath his feet, and Seonghwa grit his teeth as he remembered sneaking his way through the halls of his university, avoiding detection.</p><p>He thought of Hyunjin, and he let out a slow breath, shutting his eyes for a beat then opening them into reality again.</p><p>"Do not think him impolite," Hongjoong said, his voice low. "He does not speak."</p><p>"... oh," Seonghwa noised, blinking rapidly. "I... thought he was rather quiet."</p><p>"He has yet to tell me the reasoning behind it, but I will not pry into business that is not my own." Hongjoong turned to look at him over his shoulder, nodding at him to follow. "Come. We will talk more in the parlor."</p><p>It was only a few short strides away from where they were standing, opening into a small but well-furnished room that smelled of burning incense and fresh laundry with dim lighting provided by double wall sconces. Slipper chairs were arranged in a circle at the center of the room for the purpose of close conversation — Seonghwa recognized the setup from his own home. Hongjoong gestured for him to have a seat, and he perched himself on the end of a chair that looked particularly comfortable, though the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was very much the opposite.</p><p>"May I offer you a drink?"</p><p>Seonghwa's eyes widened at the question. He turned to look at Hongjoong, who had his back facing him as he poured brandy into a glass.</p><p>"I'm alright," he finally answered, though every voice in his head screamed at him to accept it. "Thank you."</p><p>Hongjoong emitted a soft "hm" of acknowledgment before he turned to meet his eyes again. Seonghwa found that he could not hold his gaze for long; he took a sudden interest in the floor, and Hongjoong seated himself in front of him. The brandy in his hand was reminiscent of having a pleasant conversation with an old friend — not discussing the details of a brutal killing.</p><p>"Do you think you're ready to talk about what happened tonight?"</p><p><em>Tonight. </em>It felt like it had already been years.</p><p>"I think so," Seonghwa murmured, folding his hands in his lap. Whether or not it was a blatant lie, he could not say for sure. Before him, Hongjoong tilted the glass of brandy back and forth in a rhythmic motion.</p><p>"Who was the victim?"</p><p>"Hwang Hyunjin." So far, so good. "He's majoring in... in law, I think, or something such as that. It never interested me, whatever it is."</p><p>"Did you know him well?"</p><p>Seonghwa took in a breath, and it hitched in his throat.</p><p>"... He... he... he fancied me," he confessed, his voice barely audible, "but... he was my friend, too. We're... we were all friends with him."</p><p>Hongjoong nodded slowly, his brow furrowed. His eyes searched Seonghwa's face as he spoke and he still could not look up at him.</p><p>"And did he have anyone who could possibly <em>want </em>to hurt him?"</p><p>Quickly, Seonghwa shook his head. "No," he said, far more firmly than he expected. He cleared his throat, tucking his hair behind his ear.</p><p>"... no," he repeated, softer. "No, he... he was well-liked. He had many people who... who liked him, really."</p><p>Hongjoong leaned back in his seat. In his hand, the brandy tilted back and forth; it was almost hypnotic.</p><p>"And what of his body?"</p><p>His body.</p><p>He'd dreaded to recount how he'd discovered him, alone in his study with no one to hear him. Seonghwa could only imagine the type of fear he'd felt; the way he had gone quietly for no one was alerted by him, his eyes wide open and his mouth agape, frozen into a permanent expression of shock as blood pooled a violent red on the floor and burned an imprint into the side of Seonghwa's brain, a sight he would never be able to forget for as long as he should live.</p><p>He was not aware of how tightly he dug his fingernails into his hand until it began to sting and he looked down, opening his palm to find freshly-made wounds.</p><p>"Seonghwa?"</p><p>He lifted his head, and Hongjoong's eyes were fixated on him. All at once, he crumbled beneath his gaze, turning away to run a hand through his hair.</p><p>"I'm... I'm alright," he mumbled, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.</p><p>"You don't have to tell me anything you are not ready for." Hongjoong's voice was patient, and a searing coil of heat boiled over in Seonghwa's chest.</p><p>"N - no, I'm alright," he repeated, clearing his throat and straightening in his chair to maintain perfect posture. He fumbled to fold his hands neatly in his lap again as he took in a sobering breath.</p><p>Finally, he met Hongjoong's eyes.</p><p>"He was... in his study," he began, feeling his shoulders stiffen. "The window was open, but it was cold outside. I... I went to wake him, because... well, I was going to ask him out, and..."</p><p>His throat bobbed with a hard swallow.</p><p>"... he... he looked as if he was asleep at first, but... there was blood. So much blood."</p><p>"Did you see where it originated from?"</p><p>Seonghwa took his lower lip in between his teeth, biting down hard. The tilting brandy had come to a stop.</p><p>"I think... perhaps his neck? I... I am not certain, I..."</p><p>He shook his head, letting out a long breath that quivered incessantly.</p><p>"... my God, who would do this?" He whispered.</p><p>Hongjoong's eyes had changed; they looked like drawn curtains, the sky behind them darkened. Behind his lips, he withheld a plethora of secrets, ones that waited to make themselves known only once Seonghwa had broken the silence between them. It was not an action taken swiftly as Seonghwa allowed the question to simmer in the empty air until he could find the nerve within himself to go on.</p><p>"I have seen such as this before," he confessed softly. "It was many years ago, but I am no stranger to it. My friend's mother... I did not find her, but I saw her, and it was all the very same. The very same, down to the blood. There is... there is always so much."</p><p>Seonghwa's throat bobbed with a hard swallow, and he let out a wince. His fingertips raised to ghost over his throat. He had not known how dry it had become in the time that he had been speaking while Hongjoong remained perfectly silent before him. His expression was unable to be read no matter how Seonghwa would have liked to tell just what was on his mind, and a part of him wondered if the man would ever speak again.</p><p>"Have some brandy," he finally said, and this time, Seonghwa did not deny him. He raised the glass to his lips and took a long sip to soothe his aching throat, though to swallow felt like downing sandpaper.</p><p>"Thank you," he managed, but it was hard to say whether or not Hongjoong was listening. His gaze was faraway, staring at something Seonghwa could not see.</p><p>When his chair creaked as he moved, Seonghwa flinched as if he'd been struck.</p><p>Hongjoong stood, bringing a hand to his mouth as he turned away from Seonghwa and faced the wall. He crossed one arm over his chest and his shirt tightened against his back, outlining his form.</p><p>"In order to fully grasp the weight of what I am going to tell you," he began, "I am going to have to ask you to open your mind to things you may have never thought possible."</p><p>Seonghwa felt something stir in the pit of his stomach. Furrowing his brow, he leaned forward in his seat, gripping the armrests with damp palms. He had discovered his friend dead only hours prior, brutally killed; there was not much that was outside his realm of possibility, not anymore.</p><p>"Just tell me," he wavered. "Anything, I am willing to hear it, you must understand this."</p><p>Silence fell between them like a blanket of night, and Seonghwa grit his teeth, rising from his chair.</p><p>"My God, spare me this—"</p><p>"Your friend was the victim of a vampire attack."</p><p>The words hit like a harsh slap to the face. Seonghwa froze, and the sting from the invisible impact chased the blood from his face and left him ghostly pale.</p><p>Slowly, he sank back into his seat, and the room tilted.</p><p>He began to regret ever saying anything.</p><p>"They infect this city like a plague and they have for years," Hongjoong muttered, his voice bitter. "They prey on whoever they see fit, and they have left a stain on your life more than once."</p><p>He turned to face Seonghwa again, silent as he moved. Seonghwa was not conscious of his open mouth until he realized he was being looked at, and he quickly snapped it shut, shaking his head and waking himself from a daydream.</p><p>"... and... and when you say... <em>vampire... </em>do you mean the ones of lore?"</p><p>It sounded ridiculous once it left his mouth. He hardly believed the notion even when it had forced itself into existence by way of being spoken, muddling his mind and twisting his perspective. Hongjoong took his lower lip in between his teeth to bite back a sigh.</p><p>"I know that it's not easy to stomach," he said, lowering his head and gripping the delicate material of the chair before him. "and perhaps even harder to consider, but you must know that I would not lie to you, Seonghwa, and my explanation does not come from nothing. This city... it has a dark underbelly that few know about."</p><p>"Does every city not have an underbelly?" Seonghwa blinked rapidly, thoughts racing through his mind faster than he could process. "Who is to say that Hyunjin was not the victim of a regular killer? A <em>human </em>one, at that."</p><p>"His body's condition does not suggest that of a human killer."</p><p>"And what dictates that? In turn, you must know that I have seen my friend dead tonight," Seonghwa argued, raising himself from his seat once more, "and to hear from an investigator that it was at the hands of a creature from fable is not simply hard to stomach, it is absolutely and undeniably—"</p><p>"Seonghwa."</p><p>The sound of his name was enough to silence him. His breath hitched in his throat, and the rest of his sentence died on the tip of his tongue.</p><p>Hongjoong tilted his head to look down as he stepped closer, and he suddenly felt very small.</p><p>"I will say once more that this does not come from nothing," he said coolly. "I have seen these creatures with my own eyes. I have seen the things they are capable of and what they do to people."</p><p>He reached back to pull his chair closer, seating himself in front of Seonghwa; close enough for him to see the light reflecting in Hongjoong's strange dark eyes.</p><p>"An open window on a cold night and a body killed so precisely that it looks as if they are sleeping is not an unusual thing to me. We are dangerous beings, Seonghwa, but we are not like this... we are not capable of this. We are far too flawed for these perfect killings, and that is why you never hear of them getting caught."</p><p>Desperately, Seonghwa searched his face for any trace of evidence that he was in a dream, one that had since spiraled into a nightmare.</p><p>No; this was an unfortunate and terrifying reality.</p><p>For a moment, he struggled to speak, only sputtering out once he'd scrounged up a weak train of thought.</p><p>"A - am... am I to believe... that Hyunjin was... w - was hunted for sport by a blood-sucking demon of the night?"</p><p>"I do not expect you to believe it," Hongjoong said patiently. "But you must know that I do not lie to you."</p><p>He was serious.</p><p>Dear God, he was <em>serious.</em></p><p>Like wax melting off of a candle, Seonghwa made a slow descent in his seat, sinking within himself and holding his head in his hands to hide his face. Furrowing his brow, Hongjoong reached out to him, but reluctantly drew his hand back.</p><p>"Oh God," Seonghwa whispered, tugging at his hair. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..."</p><p>"It has... been a long night," Hongjoong murmured. "You are more than welcome to get some rest here, if you so wish."</p><p>Seonghwa flinched and lifted his head when fingers curled gently around his arms to move them away from his face.</p><p>He met Hongjoong's eyes, gazing at him with a quiet sympathy, and his heart sank.</p><p>"You... you tell the truth, don't you?"</p><p>It was spoken in a barely audible whisper, threatening to break on the last word.</p><p>"Don't you?"</p><p>Hongjoong smiled sadly.</p><p>"Come with me. I'll show you to the guest bedroom."</p><p>A light tug on Seonghwa's arms brought him to his feet at once, even though he swayed unsteadily. Hands on his elbows balanced him and he retained his composure, though he found that his eyes could not leave the floor.</p><p>"Do... do you have any means by which I could reach out to my parents?" He asked softly, allowing himself to be guided to the door by a hand that hovered over his lower back. "I'm sure... I - I'm quite sure that they would like to know that I'm alright."</p><p>Wordlessly, Hongjoong nodded, and Seonghwa let out a long breath.</p><p>The hearth fires in the hall had died and cloaked the manor in darkness.</p><p>Beneath his feet, the staircase creaked, and he relived the very same memory he already longed to forget.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seonghwa had not slept, and yet he was certain he was dreaming.</p><p>To listen to the clock ticking on the wall of the guest bedroom was like wading waist-deep through thick mud, always able to see the shore but never close enough to reach it. Time still went by in his world, but as the rising sun chased away the manor's shadows and filled the room with light, he did not feel present, like he was not the owner of any physical form. In his youth, his mother had detailed to him stories of a place in-between, not quite Heaven nor was it Hell, where weary souls with unclear paths awaited their final judgment. Within the bedroom's walls, he waited for them to close in on him, to trap him in limbo until it was decided for him just where he was meant to be.</p><p>It did not matter how many times he pinched his own arm to rouse himself from the nightmare he'd been plunged into. All it left him with was reddened skin and a deep-seated sense of dread, one that coiled around his spine like a snake as its deadly grip tightened on his ribcage and stole away his breath. Above all, this troubled him the most — it had become hard to breathe, and his mind would not allow him peace; he imagined his lungs filling with blood that was not his own.</p><p>Enough time in the solitude of the bedroom, trapped with nothing but the loud noise of his own mind, led him to believe after a while that he was the very last person left alive, perhaps in the entire city; only the muffled sounds of human voices downstairs beginning in the later hours of the morning could reach through his brain's fog and remind him with startling quickness that he was still able to be perceived by those around him.</p><p>Slowly, he rose from the bed, the sheets pooling around his waist. He bunched his fingers in their soft material, and he discovered that he was still adorned in fine clothes meant for a night out after a brief glance down at himself. His cheeks tinged pink; at least he was presentable, if nothing else. The wooden boards whined under his weight as he stood and took in a quiet breath before opening the door and making his descent downstairs.</p><p>His senses were overtaken at once by the savory fragrance of breakfast, sizzling and popping just around the corner when he paused on the last step, unsure as to how he was going to announce himself. What if they had forgotten about him in the middle of the night, and his presence would prove to be a surprise? It would be nothing short of humiliating, especially since he could only imagine that lack of proper sleep all throughout the night had left him looking less than approachable.</p><p>With a sigh, he calmed himself. Once again, he was thinking too far ahead. His hands swept over his front to smooth it out, and he padded quietly into the kitchen.</p><p>Much like the rest of the manor, it was large with plenty of places to seat oneself and still move freely about. Yeosang's small frame leaned over the stove where he was preparing a delectable meal of bacon and eggs. They simmered loudly in the copper pan, and Seonghwa's stomach growled; only then did it dawn on him just how long it had been since he had last eaten. Yeosang turned to smile at him, and he dipped his head in polite greeting, tearing his eyes away from breakfast just long enough to realize that they were not by themselves.</p><p>Seated at a round table was a pair of faces that he did not recognize, two he had not met before. Their leisurely positions in their chairs suggested that they were the other residents of the manor that Hongjoong had alluded to briefly when he spoke of his elusive "team." They had yet to notice him, and Seonghwa preferred it that way, though one movement to the other side of Yeosang brought him to the attention of one with peach-colored hair.</p><p>"... oh!" The man noised aloud, his dark eyes widening. They darted between Seonghwa and Yeosang in a short-lived bewilderment before he cleared his throat and straightened in his seat.</p><p>"Morning," he said, and glanced once more at the back of Yeosang's head. Seonghwa offered him a weak smile, though he bent at the waist to bow respectfully.</p><p>"Good morning," he echoed. The sound of his voice alerted the second stranger, who lifted his head from his fixation on the newspaper held out before him. His eyes found Seonghwa through loose waves of long dark hair, and he visibly paused, arching one quizzical eyebrow.</p><p>"Hello there," he spoke, his voice a startling low resonation in his chest that carried the lilt of an accent from Ambrosted's east end. "Who're you?"</p><p>"My name is Seonghwa," he replied, almost as if it was rehearsed. "Hongjoong, uhm... he... h - he let me stay the night."</p><p>The strange looks he earned in response did nothing to ease his nerves. The only thing to fill the silence was the sound of sizzling bacon, and it nearly became too awkward for him to bear.</p><p>"... did Hongjoong have a good time last night?"</p><p>It was said quietly, but loud enough for Seonghwa to hear as his face flushed a deep red. Yeosang turned to send a chastising glare in their direction and the first man to greet him raised his arm and plunged his elbow hard into the other male's ribs.</p><p><em>"Mingi," </em>he hissed.</p><p>"N - nothing like that," Seonghwa began, stammering to explain himself. "My, uhm... my... my friend was... killed... last night."</p><p>Seonghwa could pinpoint the moment that the weight of an ill-timed joke settled over and silenced them for a beat. He bit his lip, and the men shifted uncomfortably in their seats.</p><p>"I'm... so sorry, Seonghwa," one finally said; the strawberry blonde. "Here... come sit."</p><p>He gestured to the empty seat in front of him, and Seonghwa slowly edged across the floor to take him up on his offer. He dipped his head in the emulation of a small bow. Seonghwa returned it.</p><p>"I'm Yunho," he introduced, then pointed at his company. "This is Mingi. You'll have to excuse him, he's not... <em>usually </em>this much of a dick, at least not at first."</p><p>The long-haired man scoffed in response, rolling up the paper to place it to the side and extend his hand across the table for Seonghwa to shake. As Seonghwa reached out, he noticed a glint of bronze that he had not been aware of before; suddenly, he took in a sharp gasp.</p><p>"Your... your arm, oh my God!"</p><p>While one arm was composed of flesh and ink from a sleeve of patchwork tattoos, the other was formed completely from metal, all the way from the shoulder to his fingertips. How Seonghwa had only seen it just then was a mystery to him as he stared at it with widened eyes, mouth agape.</p><p>Mingi pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "Before you ask, yes, it hurt," he said, letting out a sigh.</p><p>"This... why, this... is <em>phenomenal," </em>Seonghwa breathed, rising from his chair to stand over the metal limb and marvel at it from another angle. "I have seen... metal fused with other metals, and flesh upon flesh, yes, but to see metal fused so... so seamlessly with human skin..."</p><p>He reached out, hovering his hands over Mingi's arm.</p><p>"May I touch it?"</p><p>While he struggled to rein in his excitement, Mingi stared at him like he'd grown a third eye in the time that they'd been standing there. He glanced at Yunho as if to ask for permission, met with a smile and an encouraging nudge.</p><p>"You... you can," he mumbled.</p><p>Seonghwa placed his hands on the cool metal of Mingi's forearm once he was allowed to do so. Mingi wrinkled his nose, but made no efforts to move away as Seonghwa grazed his fingertips over the artifical limb. Unable to contain himself, he beamed.</p><p>"I study automatons," he explained. "I learn how they are put together and their functions, but I... well, it was said that the fusion of metal and flesh was such a risky procedure, I never thought it would be done! Do you remember the name of your surgeon?"</p><p>"After all the morphine? I'm lucky to even be alive, much less remember the bastard's name." Mingi leaned back in his seat, his expression soured. "If you're thinking about getting one, don't. You'll be the designated jar-opener. Nothing more."</p><p>A lighthearted laugh sounded in the back of Yunho's throat while Seonghwa prompted Mingi to bend his arm at the elbow, his eyes as round as saucers.</p><p>"Phenomenal," he repeated. "May I draw a diagram?"</p><p>Mingi looked at Yunho for any form of aid, and the man passed Seonghwa a handkerchief that he pulled from his pocket.</p><p>"Ah... Yeosang, do you have a pen?"</p><p>At the request, Yeosang abandoned his cooking just long enough to brandish a pen that had hidden itself among the kitchen supplies, passing it to Yunho who then handed it to Seonghwa. He flashed him an appreciative grin before beginning to scribble away on the fabric with Mingi's arm serving as his reference.</p><p>"You've been a popular topic before," Yunho mused with a smile sent in Mingi's direction, "but I believe this is your first scholar."</p><p>"I apologize for being so untoward," Seonghwa said, without looking up. "I have just... never seen anything like this, not once."</p><p>Ever since his arrival at the manor, Seonghwa had experienced many firsts; not all of them had been pleasant, but outlining a metal arm brought him a certain type of joy that was enough to occupy his mind, even if only briefly.</p><p>He had just begun to fill in the details around the bronze fingers when Yunho lowered his head in a small bow of greeting with his eyes looking past Seonghwa. A quick glance over his shoulder would find Hongjoong's familiar form in the doorway, taking him by surprise as he rose from his seat and turned to face him. His nightshirt was belted at the waist, and his hair had been released from its loose knot to frame his face in a bedheaded mess.</p><p>"Seonghwa," he greeted, his voice husky. "How are you feeling?"</p><p>The amalgamation of emotions that stirred within Seonghwa's chest were difficult to pick through. His lack of any clear answer led him to one word, and one word only.</p><p>"I'm... fine," he said, for he had no other name for it.</p><p>Hongjoong acknowledged the answer with a low hum, gently shouldering past Yeosang to take his place in front of the stove. Seonghwa watched his hand as it reached out to find a jar of pepper, lightly sprinkling it over the eggs that simmered in their pan.</p><p>"Hand me one of those eggs," he murmured to Yeosang, and cracked it open on the countertop once it had been given to him.</p><p>"Thank you. Have a seat. Rest for a minute."</p><p>The blonde put up no fight, withdrawing from the stovetop to pull out a chair beside Seonghwa and offer him a wordless smile. Even then, his gaze remained transfixed on Hongjoong's back, tracking the movement of his hands and how his shoulders rolled beneath his shirt.</p><p>In the midst of his staring, he shook his head to wake himself from a daze; it was strange to look at Hongjoong in the daylight, like he was seeing him for the first time all over again.</p><p>He eased back into his seat and folded his hands neatly in his lap, only to look up and see Yunho's elbows on the table while Mingi tilted back in his chair, much like a bored child in class. Blinking rapidly, he lifted his arms from his sides to grip the seat of his chair instead, rocking his weight on his palms and leaning forward.</p><p>"I imagine it must be odd," he began, breaking the silence between himself and the others, "to have a stranger in your home who ogles at your arm and then has a share of your breakfast. I do not mean to impose."</p><p>"Oh, lighten up."</p><p>Mingi slapped the newspaper down onto the tabletop, and for a moment, Seonghwa worried that he had said something wrong, until he saw that he was being smiled at.</p><p>"Eating together is one of life's simple pleasures. Treat yourself to just a bite of hedonism."</p><p>Perhaps it was his accent that made him so persuasive, or it was the way that Yunho grinned at him every time he spoke.</p><p>At long last, Seonghwa allowed himself to relax.</p><p>With the hesitation of a fawn taking its first steps, he laid his hands on the table, spread out at first and then politely folding them together. Had his mother been there, he would have awaited a chastising slap on the wrist, but she was not.</p><p>"I trust that Yunho and Mingi have been kind to you."</p><p>Hongjoong's voice came from nowhere, suddenly only a mere breath away from his ear. Seonghwa turned to look at him in alarm and quickly withdrew as the man leaned over him to place a plate before him, containing a mouth-watering serving of bacon and eggs. He moved away, and took his warmth with him.</p><p>"They have," Seonghwa said. He faced the pair, and Yunho's eyes were alight with amusement. "Most excellent hosts, they are."</p><p>"Hm... good." Hongjoong laid servings down for the others, who wasted not a moment more to start eating. "It's usually Yeosang who sees to the guests in my absence, but it appears these two are early risers this morning."</p><p>Mingi huffed, swallowing a mouthful of eggs.</p><p>"You're in no place to talk about early rising. I don't think I've ever seen your face in the morning light."</p><p>Seonghwa laughed, and it prompted a lighthearted smile from Hongjoong as he sat down in between Mingi and Yeosang.</p><p>"Well, there is a first time for everything, isn't there?"</p><p>He glanced at Seonghwa across the table. Despite everything, Seonghwa had found it within himself to eat, finally relieving the pain in his stomach with a forkful of breakfast that warmed him from head to toe.</p><p>"My God," he mumbled, placing a hand over his mouth as he spoke, "this must be the first proper breakfast I've had in months."</p><p>Yunho looked up at him, arching an eyebrow.</p><p>"They don't feed you in school?"</p><p>"They do," he said. "It's just a matter of whether or not I wake up for it."</p><p>Yeosang chuckled at his side, and the fleeting sound took Seonghwa by surprise.</p><p>"How are you to study well if you do not eat well?" Hongjoong queried, raising a glass to his lips and wrinkling his nose after the first tentative sip.</p><p>"My studying stretches late into the night. How am I to wake early after waiting so long to sleep?"</p><p>"There's always the option to drop out," Mingi deadpanned.</p><p><em>"Mingi," </em>Yunho whispered.</p><p>Seonghwa grinned. "How will I ever go on to craft automatons in faraway cities if I drop out?"</p><p>"By train, typically."</p><p>Mingi sensed the elbow to the ribs before it ever came and swiftly avoided it, eliciting a giddy laugh from Yunho. Though one look from Yeosang was enough to silence them, their smiles remained. A quietness settled over the table, allowing room for nothing but the scraping of silverware against dishes, and for once, it was comfortable.</p><p>"I cannot thank you all enough," Seonghwa said softly, "for allowing me to stay the night and dine with you. You are far too kind."</p><p>Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, and the loose strands fell before his eyes in a familiar way.</p><p>"I'll take no praise for doing what any other should," he murmured. "You're welcome here for as long as you see fit."</p><p>Seonghwa shook his head. "I insist, I cannot begin to express how grateful—"</p><p>His intentions to continue were cut off by the shrill tone of a phone ringing upstairs, muffled and yet loud enough for them all to hear. As if they had not processed it the first time, they paused until it came again.</p><p>"Starting early today, I see," Hongjoong mused as he rose from his seat, pushing his chair back with a squeak. "Excuse me for a moment."</p><p>Seonghwa's eyes followed him as he moved upstairs, then glanced towards his plate. The prospect of him having to leave his breakfast and let it grow cold on the table displeased him; after finishing off his last strip of bacon, he stood and took the man's plate in his hands, carrying it to the stovetop. Mingi furrowed his brow, staring after him.</p><p>"What're you doing?"</p><p>Seonghwa bent over and set the stove alight, letting it simmer beneath the abandoned plate.</p><p>"Keeping his food warm."</p><p>Mingi scoffed again. He was fond of that.</p><p>"It'll be a miracle if he even finishes it," he said. "That's the best I've seen that man eat in weeks."</p><p>Seonghwa furrowed his brow and turned to look at him. Yunho must have sensed the piqued concern, seeing as he cleared his throat and extended a reassuring hand.</p><p>"Mingi's exaggerating."</p><p>Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak, but quickly discovered that he didn't know what to say. Lowering his head, he took a sudden interest in the floor, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.</p><p>Hongjoong had allowed him into his home — a grand one, at that — with no obligations to repay him or be out within a specific time frame. He <em>did </em>tell him stories in the face of his friend's murder, but it was something that paled next to his kindness, and <em>God, </em>the least he could do was be sure that his host had the opportunity to finish his breakfast while it was still warm.</p><p>Something came over him. An urge he made no attempt to fight as he took the plate in his hands.</p><p>He wheeled around to make his way upstairs when his eyes met Hongjoong's, who took up the doorway again, and he froze; caught in the act of something potentially intrusive.</p><p>He blushed, and looked down at his hands.</p><p>"I was going to bring this to you," he explained.</p><p>Hongjoong had yet to even look at it, though he regarded Seonghwa with a soft smile that played on his lips, like he had something to tell him that only he knew about.</p><p>He reached out and accepted the plate, their fingertips brushing against one another in the soft exchange.</p><p>"Well... the phone's asking for you."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day that the prospect of answering a phone call would not wrack Seonghwa's nerves to no end would be the day that he would finally know some semblance of peace.</p><p>He had good reason to believe that it was only his mother, calling because she'd woken up and had remembered where he was and all that had happened in the night prior and wanted to reach out for the sake of her own reassurance. That was very much like her, even if they had spoken last night just before he'd closed himself up in the guest bedroom. He'd been adamant about his safety, and yet the concerns of a worried mother were never satisfied; he knew that better than most.</p><p>Nevertheless, he still fidgeted with the collar of his shirt as he moved slowly up the stairs while the drone of pleasant conversation quieted behind him. Once he stood on the top step, the voices of the others were muffled beneath him and he was alone with the open door of Hongjoong's study.</p><p>He'd been inside the night prior, but much like the man who often occupied it, it looked different in the daylight. His attention was drawn to a disorganized array of papers, all resembling case files and all sharing the trait of an "unusual homicide." Biting his lip, he turned away from them, focusing instead on the phone that laid in wait for him to pick it up.</p><p>He let out a sobering breath and lifted it to his ear, the mouthpiece held just beneath his chin.</p><p>"... hello?"</p><p>The greeting hardly sounded like him; it was far too dainty and quiet. With humiliation reddening his cheeks, he cleared his throat to try again, but the other end of the line crackled to life with a voice that was stifled by a lack of clarity and yet one he recognized immediately.</p><p>"Seonghwa?!"</p><p>His eyes widened.</p><p>"It's... it's you!"</p><p>"Oh my God," San whispered, the words spilling from his mouth like it was a broken faucet. "The moment I heard about it, I... I - I mean, I called everyone I know to try and speak to you, when I reached out to your mom she connected me to... to this... wh - where the hell are you, anyway? Are you okay?"</p><p>"I'm okay," Seonghwa said as he gripped the phone with white knuckles. His mind racing, he began to pace about in a small circle. "The... the police department directed me to this... this... investigator." His brow furrowed at the word.</p><p>"You really found him, didn't you?"</p><p>Seonghwa paused. His heart skipped a beat.</p><p>"I... I think I was... the first," he confessed, swallowing thickly. "I don't... know, but I just... I hope he wasn't there long."</p><p>"Of course not."</p><p>San did not have to be there for Seonghwa to see him. Just by hearing his voice, he knew that he held the phone with a furrowed brow and a chewed lip, clear as day in his mind's eye.</p><p>"Have they taken care of everything? A - at school, I mean." He found a place to cease his pacing against the wall, though his heart continued to hammer in his chest.</p><p>"They told us practically nothing," San said. "Just that something happened and we were all to go home until further notice. Wooyoung and I were going to sneak back in, but when we saw all the security outside..." He trailed off, and Seonghwa finished the rest of the sentence for himself.</p><p>"So... how did you find out? About him?"</p><p>"I asked one of our security bots," He answered simply. "They don't withhold things like the police do. God, when I found out..."</p><p>He paused, and Seonghwa's shoulders fell lax against the tension of his body.</p><p>"... I tried to get a hold of you all night," San continued. "No one knew where you'd gone off to. I only managed to get this contact from your mom, once she finally answered my calls. I mean, I... I thought you were hurt or... something."</p><p>San was not one easily disturbed; to hear him detailing such desperate attempts to reach out twisted the pit of Seonghwa's stomach. Lowering his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't—"</p><p>"N - no, don't apologize," San quickly interjected. "I'm just... I'm... glad to hear that you're okay, is all."</p><p>Even once he'd been dismissed, Seonghwa could do nothing to extinguish the need to apologize that laid on the tip of his tongue. He despised being fussed over, and acting as the root of another's worries was far worse, especially when that someone happened to be his best friend.</p><p>He desperately needed a distraction.</p><p>"... so," he began. "How did it go with Wooyoung?"</p><p>San quieted on the other end. It was a rather quick subject change, like suddenly veering a carriage off of a road and onto the side of a mountain.</p><p>"... It went well," he answered nonetheless, and Seonghwa smiled. "Really... really well, in truth."</p><p>"How is he handling the turn of events?"</p><p>"Ah... he's... he's with... me, actually. Right now."</p><p>A rush of blood warmed Seonghwa's face at once as his eyes widened in alarm.</p><p>"I - in the room?! Right now?" He whispered.</p><p>"No! No, he's not in the room... I... let him take my bed, he's asleep."</p><p>Seonghwa laid a theatrical hand on his chest. "San—"</p><p>"B - before you say anything," His friend quickly explained, "no, we did not share. Nothing like... that, no. When everything happened, I let him come home with me. He wanted to. For safety."</p><p>"Oh, for safety and nothing more?"</p><p>"You assume the worst of me," San remarked, and Seonghwa could hear the pout in his voice without having to see it. "I allowed him my bed, I settled on the sofa and that was the end of it."</p><p>Seonghwa breathed a heavy sigh. With its release followed all the discomfort that plagued him.</p><p>"You don't know what it means to me to hear from you," he murmured.</p><p>A silence fell between them, but it was not strange. It was freeing, a moment to take in that for the time being, they were both perfectly safe.</p><p>It was only broken when San softly cleared his throat, and a question that had been sitting at the back of both of their minds was finally brought to light.</p><p>"... do they have any idea who could have done it?"</p><p>It did not matter how many times such a question was asked; Seonghwa was not certain he would ever be ready for the answer. More than anything, he would have liked to tell him without a doubt in his mind who had murdered their friend in such a brutal manner, with such clarity that they could be locked away forever within the span of a few hours.</p><p>But he remembered Hyunjin's body, and the ambiguity that surrounded his death; how the killing had been so clean that there was no trail left for them to follow.</p><p>His throat bobbed with a swallow as he clutched the phone tighter.</p><p>The city was kind to none, not even those like himself and Hyunjin who should have been perfectly safe.</p><p>"Seonghwa?"</p><p>The sound of his name brought him back to Earth. He blinked rapidly, noticing only then how he gripped the phone.</p><p>"... I'm here," he mumbled, almost inaudibly. "As for... names, there are none yet, but..."</p><p>He glanced over his shoulder at the door, still closed behind him. Beneath his feet, the idle morning chatter from the manor's residents grew louder, and he recalled all that Hongjoong had confessed to him.</p><p>"... I am with this investigator," he said. "Or... team of investigators, whatever it may be. The police sent me to them on official business and said that they would be able to help me."</p><p>"Have they come up with anything?"</p><p>Seonghwa pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he edged himself closer to the wall.</p><p>"San, they speak of fairy tales."</p><p>He lowered his voice so that he would not be heard, though some inkling feeling within him believed that he had been and he would face the consequences of his doubt once he dared to show his face to them again. Nonetheless, the doubt stuck to him like a spot of oil on a brassy automaton.</p><p>"Fairy tales? How do you mean?"</p><p>"I mean they tried to tell me that Hyunjin was killed by a <em>vampire," </em>he whispered, and all the ridiculousness of the night before resurfaced in his mind.</p><p>"... a vampire?" San parroted, and Seonghwa nodded though he could not see him.</p><p>"The creature of fable," he confirmed. "My word, I understand that seeing so much death cannot be good for your health, but... to accuse murders on demons of the night is positively medieval."</p><p>San fell silent on the other end, and Seonghwa took his lower lip in between his teeth to gently bite down.</p><p>"Something... must come up sometime."</p><p>Nothing was said from his friend. Seonghwa believed that he had lost him, and opened his mouth to call for him when his voice suddenly broke through the fuzziness again.</p><p>"I can remember... my mother's death," he said softly, and Seonghwa blanched with the memory. "They would not allow us to know much, but I do remember that... someone spoke of a vampire then."</p><p>Seonghwa furrowed his brow and pressed the mouthpiece against his lower lip.</p><p>"Such a tale has been going on for this long?"</p><p>"It cannot stem from nothing."</p><p>San's statement was so certain that it startled Seonghwa, who physically withdrew from the phone once it was spoken.</p><p>"It... stems from fear, and folktales. Things you tell your children to make them behave," he mumbled.</p><p>"I will not tell you what you are to believe, but I know this. My mother's death was strange."</p><p>The unwavering tone of San's voice brought chills to the surface of Seonghwa's skin.</p><p>"It was strange," he continued, "because she never left windows open, she never welcomed in anyone she did not know, and perhaps strangest of all, she never did once make a sound. Had it not been for the blood, no one would have believed her to even be dead, and there was no killer. None that could be found."</p><p>Seonghwa intended to respond, but once he tried to form a response, it came out in a strained sound at the back of his throat. Silently, he placed a hand over his mouth, and listened to his heart beat painfully against his ribs.</p><p>"They are folktale deaths," San said in a gentle breath. "I don't claim to know my mother's killer — or Hyunjin's — but I do know that they are strange, very strange."</p><p>
  <em>Strange.</em>
</p><p>The word resonated within Seonghwa's mind until it no longer sounded real.</p><p><em>Unusual </em>homicides, and <em>strange </em>deaths that could not be explained, all far too close to him.</p><p>He said nothing, for the dread had taken a hold of his tongue again.</p><p>"... A - anyway, I'm happy to find you safe. I think Wooyoung has woken up, so I'll have to go."</p><p>The air of finality behind San's words hit like a punch to the gut. Seonghwa held the phone closer, like it would delay his leave.</p><p>"Okay," he whispered.</p><p>"Please... be careful, Seonghwa. I'll call you again."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>The sound of his friend's voice was replaced by empty static, and just as quickly as he'd found company, he was alone within the study again.</p><p>Beneath him, the voices continued on, and he slumped against the wall while their vibrations reached through the manor's infrastructure and hummed against his back.</p><p>✣</p><p>Seonghwa's mind was still swimming with pools of blood and still bodies when he descended the staircase and entered the dining room once more. Every head turned to look at him, and he avoided their eyes with a face turned towards the floor and a subtle clearing of his throat. They did not linger on him for long before they refocused their attention on what was left of their breakfast; all but one.</p><p>Hongjoong rose from his seat with an empty plate in his hand, moving it to the sink to run water over it. Seonghwa, not believing he would be addressed, flinched at the sound of his voice when he spoke.</p><p>"A matter of utmost importance, I presume?"</p><p>Seonghwa could have laughed at the thought of himself answering a phone call on any sort of official business. He managed a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>"A friend," he murmured. "He reached out to me."</p><p>Hongjoong nodded, wiping his dampened hands on his pants. Seonghwa blinked in surprise at the action, though he had no time to say anything about it.</p><p>"To have others who worry about you is a special thing," he hummed, and Seonghwa shook his head.</p><p>"I'm not fond of being worried about."</p><p>From Hongjoong's chest sounded a low laugh, one that made Seonghwa want to laugh with him even when there had been nothing to humor him.</p><p>"To worry is to care," he said simply, "and to care is to love. It's a good thing. It's very... <em>human </em>of us."</p><p>His emphasis on the word brought visions of fanged creatures to the forefront of Seonghwa's mind, poisoning his every thought with memories of folktales and late night terrors that occurred to him as a child, those that would trap him beneath his covers and leave him too afraid to look out from under them. Placing his hands against the countertop, he let out a soft sigh, parting his lips to speak when Hongjoong leaned closer to him.</p><p>"I understand that much has happened to you in very little time," he mumbled, his voice low. "Were I you, I would want to go home. Should you want me to, I will see to it that you make it safely there."</p><p>The offer took Seonghwa by surprise, and yet he knew it was genuine, as Hongjoong did not seem the type to make empty promises.</p><p>In truth, he did want to go home; he could not deny himself that, not when the refuge of his familiar bedroom and the sounds of his parents tinkering away a floor below him sounded so lovely in the moment. Home was somewhere he could be safe, a return to his sheltered lifestyle that he knew so well before his enrollment in university.</p><p>No thoughts of murders, and certainly no thoughts of vampires.</p><p>"That's... that's very... kind of you, sir," he said, and Hongjoong's nose wrinkled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Seonghwa quickly continued.</p><p>"That is very kind of you, but if I may, I would..."</p><p>He paused, his eyes darting to the other seated around the table, still chattering amongst one another.</p><p>"... I would like to stay," he uttered quietly. "If... if that's alright."</p><p>He could not believe the words that had just come from his own mouth, and inwardly questioned what fiend had possessed him to speak it into existence. Nonetheless, he did not correct himself, biting his lip as he bore the weight of Hongjoong's astonished gaze. It was not an answer he expected to receive, and certainly not one Seonghwa expected to give.</p><p>"You are... more than welcome to stay," he said, placing a hand on the countertop beside Seonghwa's. "For as long as you like."</p><p>"I want to be active in this investigation, if you'll have me."</p><p>Freeing the confession from its place at the back of his throat felt like the equivalent to signing his soul away to the Devil.</p><p>Each time Seonghwa was certain he could not surprise Hongjoong any further, he proved himself wrong. The man lowered his head to stare at the floor and Seonghwa had half a mind to take it all back, but he never did.</p><p>"... are you sure?" Hongjoong finally asked.</p><p>"This is a friend of mine," Seonghwa continued, his voice impossibly quiet. "If I did not lift a finger to help in finding his killer, I don't think I would ever be able to sleep soundly again."</p><p>Hongjoong raised a hand to his mouth to press his fingers against his lower lip. Seonghwa swallowed thickly, but his statement was not to be retracted; even as the nausea irritated him at his stomach, he was firm in his promise, made to himself and made to Hyunjin.</p><p>Finally, Hongjoong took on a sage smile, regarding him with a gaze that Seonghwa believed could see straight through him.</p><p><em>Strange </em>and <em>unusual </em>homicides rang like a bell deep within his mind.</p><p>"You may want to make a call home," Hongjoong advised, and Seonghwa nodded. The man straightened from his leisurely position against the countertop, offering Seonghwa one last look over his shoulder before he returned to the table.</p><p>Seonghwa had to have gone positively mad, and he knew that well enough, for strange and unusual happenings followed him at every step.</p><p>April was going to be a bloody month in a bloody city, and he was bound to catch himself in the middle of it, even if it meant finding his name in a folktale.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaaaa i'm so sorry for another late update!! work has been keeping me rlly busy and so has comeback szn!! remember to stream fireworks on genie &amp; spotify ^^<br/>n e ways with this chapter we're gonna start getting into the rlly good stuff!! i'm excited for y'all to see how this unfolds~ tysm for all ur love and ur patience!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While the manor's twisting staircases and long corridors were daunting at first, their secrets were quickly revealed to Seonghwa once Hongjoong enlisted Yunho to be the one who showed him around. His decision to stay for the length of the investigation with no clear end in sight meant that he would need to be familiar with his temporary home, and the tall strawberry blonde seemed more than happy to give him the grand tour.</p><p>Even once he was inside and came to face all of the luxurious aspects of living there, he was still enamored by the home and all it had to offer him. His first entry the night prior had cloaked it in darkness and obscured its embellishments from him, and the coming of daylight had only allowed him to see from the guest bedroom to the kitchen downstairs. Yunho treated it as a necessity to know every nook and cranny of the manor; an outlook Seonghwa was endlessly grateful for.</p><p>As the final moments of their shared breakfast came to a close and everyone began to disperse from the kitchen, Yunho nodded for Seonghwa to follow him out into the front hall. He stood at the bottom step of the staircase and laid his hand on the banister, and Seonghwa gazed anticipatively up at him like a child to their instructor.</p><p>"Now that it's just you and me," The taller male began, running a finger along the glossy wood, "I want to apologize again for the circumstances that brought you here. It's... not an easy thing, I'm sure."</p><p>His brows were knit with concern and his lips held no trace of a smile as he looked down at Seonghwa with a heart full of pity. It was not that Seonghwa did not appreciate the care for his wellbeing; it was pleasant to feel it from a stranger. Rather, it was the apologies and the sad looks cast his way like he was a broken doll awaiting the careful hand of a tailor.</p><p>Yunho's concern brought him stumbling back to everything he had experienced — the blood, the body, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.</p><p>It did not sit quietly within him.</p><p>Seonghwa intended to speak, but his own tongue choked him back from any response. For the sake of manners, he longed to smile and say that everything was alright, but how was he to lie and claim to be alright when Yunho stared at him so closely?</p><p>A shadow cast itself over Yunho's face and burdened him with a solemn visage. His verbal sympathy was the equivalent of tiptoeing around Seonghwa as if he was surrounded by broken glass, and it was not sympathy he sought out; he wanted a distraction.</p><p>"Well, there's... there's no need to apologize, it's hardly any fault of your own." He had become occupied by gazing at the step behind Yunho's head, no longer able to face that pitiful stare. "So long as a killer is found, everything will be fair and just in the end."</p><p>It was a dismissive statement to put an end to the topic, and luckily, Yunho caught the line that he tossed out. He nodded and continued up the staircase, Seonghwa following only a couple steps behind.</p><p>"I assume Hongjoong told you everything?" Yunho glanced over his shoulder at him, and Seonghwa tilted his head.</p><p>"... that depends on what you mean by 'everything.'"</p><p>Yunho turned to face him again at the top step, and his eyes searched his face.</p><p>"About what it is we do here, I mean."</p><p>Of course. The vampires.</p><p>"He did," he replied, and his throat bobbed with a swallow.</p><p>"Good," Yunho remarked. "I don't want you to be frightened by the first room I show you."</p><p>Seonghwa had no time to think about what the statement meant before Yunho had pulled open a pair of double doors that looked like they should have led to some form of storage closet. Rather than the usual contents of a closet, dusty trinkets put away to be forgotten about, his eyes widened upon the sight of a makeshift armory. Long daggers with gleaming blades had been fastened securely to the wall beneath a large ax that commanded Seonghwa's immediate attention.</p><p>"... Oh my God," he whispered, and his reflection mouthed it back to him in the pristine blade of a knife.</p><p>"You can never be too careful," Yunho murmured. "This was the first room Hongjoong wanted filled once we started hunting. Yeosang was his first recruit... I came shortly after."</p><p>In Seonghwa's ears, his blood pounded.</p><p>"You... you <em>hunt</em> them?"</p><p>Hongjoong had failed to mention that tiny detail, and the way Yunho's eyes widened was clear enough of an answer.</p><p>"I thought Hongjoong told you."</p><p>"He... he merely told me that they <em>exist," </em>Seonghwa sputtered, looking back and forth in between the doors and Yunho. "He said nothing of hunting them!"</p><p>As quickly as he'd opened them, Yunho shut the doors again and chased the light from the room. A gleam of sunshine in the blade of the ax diminished at once and left their reflections in the shadows.</p><p>"I hope you aren't afraid," Yunho said, face red with a blush. "We have been hunting these things for... well, it must be years now."</p><p>Seonghwa struggled with the idea of the creatures even existing — to juggle the possibility of them having hunters was another wave of dizziness sent to his head. He raised a hand to his temple and Yunho bit his lip, moving closer to him.</p><p>"D - don't be frightened--"</p><p>"I'm not... frightened, Yunho," Seonghwa managed, even through the blur of information that he was barely able to piece together. "I just... I was... not aware of your occupation here. That's all."</p><p>Something within Seonghwa had been begging him to make a mad dash for the door ever since he'd laid down in bed the night before, and yet he would not do so; Yunho looked so concerned as to what he thought of him that even in his bountiful doubt, he could not argue with him.</p><p>Instead, he smiled, and gestured him forward.</p><p>"Is there more for you to show me?"</p><p>Yunho nodded, and Seonghwa was relieved to be led away from the armory. Even when its doors were closed, the image of his face shining in the blades of weapons was not easily shaken, and he had no desire to dwell on it any longer. He quickened his pace to fall into step with Yunho, who glanced back at him as if to be sure he was still close by.</p><p>"You've seen Hongjoong's study, I'm sure," the taller male stated, and waved his hand dismissively in the room's direction. Seonghwa's eyes ghosted over the familiar entrance, and he hummed in acknowledgement.</p><p>"I have. Does he spend most of his time there? It's a bit out of sorts."</p><p>Ahead of him, Yunho chuckled, and Seonghwa wondered just how disorganized he truly was.</p><p>"He sleeps most of the day," Yunho replied, "then works in his study all night if we don't have an active case. He says he thinks clearest when it's dark."</p><p>"Hm," Seonghwa noised, smiling softly. "I can hardly say I blame the man. I'm the very same."</p><p>"I expect to find you two stalking about the halls together, then." Yunho turned to look at him with a grin. "Scaring the wits out of Mingi when he gets up in the middle of the night."</p><p>Seonghwa laughed, standing quietly by as Yunho led him to another door. "Perhaps he should stay in his room and sleep rather than wander."</p><p>Yunho still wore a good-natured smile from the merriment of the conversation when he opened the door wide enough for Seonghwa to see inside. A peek in would find parlor chairs and a piano pushed against the wall, one that had recently been moved judging by the dust tracks on the floor. The wallpaper, once sage green but now greying, was peeling in places as it became burdened with age; a splash of color in the middle of the room from paint on a canvas was a pleasing contrast to Seonghwa's eyes.</p><p>"We call this the music room," Yunho said, "though it's... really nothing more than another sitting room."</p><p>Seonghwa tentatively looked farther inside, taking in all the room had to offer him. It did not bring him the same feeling as the armory, as he had no urges to run from it.</p><p>Curiosity overcoming him, he pointed across to the painting.</p><p>"Whose is that?"</p><p>Yunho seemed to only notice it then, blinking rapidly at the sight of it.</p><p>"Ah... Hongjoong's," he said. "And the piano is Yeosang's."</p><p>Seonghwa smiled, entering the room to graze his fingertips over the piano's ivory keys.</p><p>"Does Yeosang play while Hongjoong paints?"</p><p>"I find it occupied most often by one of them at a time." Yunho leaned against the doorframe, watching Seonghwa move about the room. "Yeosang in the day and Hongjoong at night, of course."</p><p>Drawn to the painting like it was a magnetic force, attracting him and only him, Seonghwa stood in front of it to absorb it in its entirety; it was made up of rich, vibrant colors, detailing a fallen cup on a dark tablecloth, spilling wine red as blood that dripped off of the side of the table.</p><p>He could not tear his eyes away from it.</p><p>"... it's beautiful," he said softly, and his fingers itched to reach out and touch it. It looked as if it could jump off of the page and spill at his feet.</p><p>"Mm-hmm," Yunho hummed in agreement. "He has a gift."</p><p>"Does he nurture this gift?" Seonghwa queried, grazing his fingertips lightly over the untouched edge of the canvas.</p><p>"He keeps himself busy... he is everywhere all at once."</p><p>Once Yunho took a step back, Seonghwa registered it as an indication for them to move on and he parted himself from the painting, only glancing back at it one last time before allowing Yunho to continue forward with him. Upon turning a corner, the man's voice lowered.</p><p>"That's Hongjoong's room," he whispered, nodding his head towards a closed door. "Likely he's asleep."</p><p>Seonghwa let out a soft <em>hm, </em>humor gracing his features. "So early in the day."</p><p>"And yours." Yunho gestured towards the familiar guest bedroom with a grin. "Mine and Mingi's is at the end of the hall beside the washroom."</p><p>"Oh, you share?"</p><p>At the question, Seonghwa observed the tips of Yunho's ears turning red, as if he had expected him to merely gloss over that tiny detail without notice. He allowed himself a strained laugh.</p><p>"Ah, we do," he confirmed, clearing his throat. "Safety in numbers, you know."</p><p>Whatever that meant, Seonghwa would never find out, for Yunho was swift to change the subject.</p><p>"And Yeosang's bedroom is at the other end of the hall with the armory. It looks a bit like a broom closet but he picked it out himself... he prefers a small living space."</p><p>Seonghwa raised his eyebrows with a small shrug. "To each their own, I suppose."</p><p>"There's an attic, but we hardly ever go up there," Yunho said, then took on a bright smile. "Now I must show you my favorite part of the entire property."</p><p>He was descending the stairs in the matter of a moment and Seonghwa hurried to keep up with him — his legs were long and he could maneuver himself about at great strides with ease. Seonghwa's hand slid down the banister and released it as Yunho led him to the front door and out into the courtyard, now far more beautiful than Seonghwa remembered it to be in the light of day.</p><p>"Back here."</p><p>Yunho gestured for him to follow and he did so, catching up to him as he was led around to the back of the manor. At first, there was nothing of interest to see aside from the stables; only a second look would find that he was being taken down a flower path that continued beneath a regal ivy-wrapped arch, serving as the entrance to a garden most grand. The sight of it sent Seonghwa's heart leaping to his throat.</p><p>"O - oh, I hadn't an idea you owned a garden!"</p><p>Yunho's visage, glowing with a grin, could rival the light of a thousand suns as he led Seonghwa beneath the arch and into the garden's naturally-crafted dirt paths. Seonghwa found himself surrounded at once by an immeasurable array of colorful flowers with butterflies and honeybees nestling into their petals, bringing the garden to life with their muted buzzings.</p><p>"I have the most beautiful view of it from my window," Yunho murmured, reaching out to cradle the bloom of a delicate white flower. "I believe I'm out here the most. I could... I could get lost out here, honestly."</p><p>Seonghwa lifted his head towards the manor, squinting in the sunlight to locate the window Yunho spoke of when something else snagged his attention.</p><p>He could not believe he had not noticed it before, but looking in from outside revealed to him the metal bars installed over each and every window; their resemblance to a prison took him by surprise. He blinked rapidly, taking a step back like he'd received a quick punch to the gut.</p><p>"What are those for?" He asked, though he was not certain he would like the answer. Yunho's eyes followed his own.</p><p>"They're made from silver," He explained quietly.</p><p>"But what are they for?"</p><p>Yunho paused, and bit his lip.</p><p>"S - silver... is like... a toxin to vampires," he mumbled. "It burns them up to the touch. The bars keep us protected."</p><p>It was exactly as he'd thought; he did not like the answer.</p><p>Slowly, he sank to the ground beside a flower patch, uncaring as to whether or not he dirtied the pants that he had already been wearing for far too long. He pressed his palms into the cool soil to bind himself back to Earth, though a gaze sent up to the window put his head back in the clouds.</p><p>Seonghwa, burdened with immense curiosity, had to speak again.</p><p>"Even hunters need to be protected?"</p><p>Yunho nodded solemnly, and a cold chill placed itself at the base of Seonghwa's spine to creep down his back. The thought of eyes burning into him as he slept was not one that would rest easy with him.</p><p>He felt like a child again, retreating beneath his covers to hide from the shadows outside his door.</p><p>All figments of his imagination, they had been; but the deaths he'd seen were real.</p><p>"Here, help me water some of these plants," Yunho piped up, pulling him from his own head, "then I'll show you the horses and the barn cats."</p><p>Thoughts of bloodied teeth were chased away by flowers and felines, enough to get a smile out of him. He raised himself back up to his feet and quickly joined Yunho in the midst of the hedges, accepting a watering can that weighed heavy in his hand as he laughed and talked jovially with Yunho late into the afternoon.</p><p>He forced his childhood fears to lay in wait at the back of his mind; for the sake of his own sanity, he could not dwell on them now.</p><p>Silver bars were just that: silver bars, and nothing more.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last night of the month of March settled down upon Seonghwa slowly; so slow, in fact, that he hardly knew how late it was until he looked up to find that long shadows stretched out across the ground and the sun disappeared behind distant skyscrapers to leave its memory in a dim orange glow that colored the sky. To spend a day kissed by sunlight with good company such as Yunho was a feeling far more comforting than any promise of safety he had ever received, and perhaps it was strange to think that way, but enveloping himself in warmth led him to believe that he was indestructible, even if only for a little while.</p><p>The scent of food wafting in from the kitchen as he entered the manor was a thing more than welcome to him. He had eaten well that morning, but a day that consisted of constant moving had left him hungry again, and his stomach growled loudly to remind him of it. Behind him, Yunho laughed as he shut the door.</p><p>"Already?" He teased, and Seonghwa rolled his eyes.</p><p>"I'd like to see you pretend that you aren't famished."</p><p>Yunho retreated up the stairs, grinning like a child, and Seonghwa moved calmly up after him with a hand that slid over the banister. He heard the click of Yunho's door shutting as he reached the top step and made his way into his own room.</p><p>As he passed the threshold, he paused at the realization that everything was not exactly as he had left it.</p><p>Placed on the edge of his bed was what appeared to be a pile of clothes from a distance, and closer inspection would find his observation to be right. He reached out to look at them, and his fingers brushed over a slip of paper, blended in with the white fabric of the shirt; a note, written in handwriting quick and messy.</p><p>
  <em>For your comfort — HJ</em>
</p><p>A quiet breath of surprise slipped through his parted lips while his free hand raised to ghost over his chest. It was a short and sweet notion from Hongjoong, and all he could ask for to pair with such a kind gesture. For the length of the day, he had stayed dressed in the clothes picked out to accompany San and Wooyoung on the very same night that everything <em>happened, </em>and to finally be free of them was a relief beyond measure. Smiling softly, he reached back to close his door and began to unbutton his vest, freeing his fine satin shirt from his body and allowing it to carelessly hit the floor.</p><p>He did not know who the new clothes had initially belonged to. They hung loosely off of his lean frame in a size too big, and smelled of pipe smoke masked by whatever flowery fragrance they had been washed in. Nonetheless, they were comfortable, and Seonghwa stared at a renewed soul in the wardrobe mirror as he pinned his bangs back away from his face with a dainty clip.</p><p>Some part of him was himself again, and though the feeling of awareness in his own skin was ephemeral, he did so like it when it was present.</p><p>There was a bounce in his step that was not there before as he descended the staircase and was met again with the scent of dinner in the midst of being prepared. Yunho had already emerged from his room and gone through a wardrobe change himself, adorned in clothes far more comfortable for the night. The taller male waited for Seonghwa with a hand laid on the doorway, only moving once he was close behind.</p><p>"Mingi's behind the stove tonight," Yunho told him with a lilt of humor carrying his voice, "so try to keep it all down."</p><p>It was strange to see the man working in the kitchen with his steely expression and arm that glowed bronze in the light of the flames beneath the stove, but Seonghwa could not claim to think him distracted. He had never seen a face so focused, not even from his father over his inventions, such as the one he observed from Mingi over dinner. At his side stood Hongjoong, his fingers curled around a bottle of red wine to act as the finishing touch to a serving of coq au vin. Once again, he was wide awake with the coming of night, and his eyes, glowing with the semblance of peaceful rest, always seemed to find Seonghwa without fail.</p><p>"There you are," he greeted in a hum, straightening from his leisurely position against the counter. As he gave Seonghwa's form a polite once-over, he smiled. "You look well."</p><p>"I'm far better now," Seonghwa replied, tugging at the hem of his gifted shirt. "Thank you... it was kind of you to lay this out for me."</p><p>"I can only apologize that I didn't do it sooner." Even in the activity of the kitchen, Hongjoong spoke quietly. "I can hardly imagine the discomfort you felt."</p><p>"It's nothing to worry yourself over. Clothes are only clothes."</p><p>Hongjoong regarded him with an expression infinite in its softness, and Seonghwa could do nothing else but return his smile until Mingi cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.</p><p>"Hongjoong."</p><p>Even as he loosened his hold on the bottle to pass it to Mingi, his gaze lingered on Seonghwa's face for a bit longer until he turned away. Seonghwa lowered his head with a sheepish laugh as he finally moved past him, and it was all he could do to hope that his cheeks had not flushed with color; he hadn't an idea what to do when he was the center of anyone's attention, particularly not Hongjoong's.</p><p>Yunho was in some form of a conversation with Yeosang at the very same table where they'd eaten that morning, and Seonghwa seated himself quietly at his side. He held his hands politely in his lap and straightened against the back of his chair in a manner almost soldier-like, though it only occurred to him how strange he looked when he glanced down at Yunho leaning on his elbow, which he'd propped up on the tabletop. It was easy to forget that he was not among his family and their strict ways of carrying themselves — to see such casual behavior around the dinner table was a culture shock at the very least.</p><p>He had no time to reposition himself before a serving of rich stew was placed in front of him by Mingi's proud hand as the man made his way around the table, smirking all the while. He had the look of a god who had polished off a latest creation, far more perfect than any other that had been made.</p><p>"Tonight, we dine like kings," he affirmed. Across from him, Yunho arched an eyebrow.</p><p>"I see you've gotten confident since the burnt eggs."</p><p>He laughed at the sigh he earned in response, and Seonghwa could not help but to find himself humored, as well. He bit his lip to keep from giggling while Yeosang elicited an audible <em>hm.</em></p><p>"A man burns breakfast once and hears about it for the rest of his life," Mingi lamented as he sat down adjacent to them. "Everything went well tonight."</p><p>"Everything?" Yunho prompted.</p><p>"Everything."</p><p>Relentless as Yunho's teasing was, he let up with an affectionate smile sent in Mingi's direction. It was not hard to notice how Mingi avoided his eyes, and yet his own expression had softened in a way that Seonghwa had only seen him take on for Yunho. Feeling like he was in the middle of something unspoken, Seonghwa looked down at his lap and listened to the creaking of the chairs beneath them as everyone made themselves comfortable in their seats and awaited Hongjoong to join them. He was always the last to sit down, and Seonghwa could only assume that it was not an unusual occurrence.</p><p>"I certainly hope everything went well," he said as he sat down on the other side of Yeosang. "That was some of my finest pinot noir."</p><p>Mingi had already begun to help himself to the dinner he'd served, shaking his head with a furrowed brow as he swallowed thickly.</p><p>"You have plenty more in the cellar," he reminded him matter-of-factly. "And it did go perfectly well... you all would know if you would eat it."</p><p>Seonghwa saw Yeosang roll his eyes at the very edge of his vision, but his stomach growled once more and he could wait around no longer. He spooned through the red stew and gently blew on a steaming portion, waiting for it to be a desirable temperature then finally relieving himself of his incessant hunger.</p><p>At once, a smoky taste overwhelmed his senses and warmed him with a blossom of heat in the center of his chest. The dark tang of red wine lingered over the back of his throat even after he swallowed, and as he blinked rapidly to regain his wits, he spoke at long last.</p><p>"You're right, Mingi," he said, looking up at him. "This is fantastic."</p><p>Mingi's ego grew right before his eyes as he straightened in his chair with a visage of self-assuredness, waiting in silence for the response of the others. Yeosang made a show out of taking his time with it before he allowed himself a mouthful and lifted his head in thought.</p><p>"Far better than burnt eggs," Yunho remarked.</p><p>"The day you forget about the eggs is the day I will finally sleep at night."</p><p>"In my nightmares, I taste them—"</p><p>"You did well, Mingi," Hongjoong piped up, cutting the pair off before anything else could be said. "Perhaps it was even worth it to dust off the wine."</p><p>Yeosang nodded in agreement. Humored by lighthearted conversation, Seonghwa smiled. Good food and better company would never fail to have a calming effect on the entire room, and as it settled over them like a blanket, they eventually quieted with only the sound of clinking silverware to fill the space between them.</p><p>It was not meant to last — it never was.</p><p>It became a matter of who was going to be the first to speak.</p><p>"Well," Mingi began, his eyes glossing over those before him, "you know how I hate to be the rain on a lovely day, but we cannot forget that someone was killed last night."</p><p>Seonghwa felt himself flinch at the memory. Thickly, he swallowed, the wine in his mouth suddenly very bitter.</p><p>"There are gentler ways to say it," Yunho mumbled.</p><p>"We've spared no truth before. Why should we now?"</p><p>"Consideration of present company."</p><p>Gazes flit over to Seonghwa, then away from him just as quickly. Once again, he was a broken doll in the corner, tiptoed around as if one harsh move would tear him at the seams.</p><p>Hyunjin's face took up the forefront of his mind; the memory of his blood and of his eyes, staring ahead in an empty terror.</p><p>Uncomfortably, he shifted, no longer interested in his stew. Wine was much too red.</p><p>"In any case," Hongjoong spoke, his glass tilting back and forth in his hand, "that is the truth. It's clear that this one is brave enough to break into the campus of a university... there will be like-minded others."</p><p>"There must be some kind of a pattern," Yunho mumbled, lacing his fingers tightly together. "Something we can follow to see us in the right direction... a suspect. Anything."</p><p>"I know of one."</p><p>Hongjoong's response struck a chord of surprise within all of them. As all eyes fell on him, he stared ahead, unwavering.</p><p>"Were it not for his carelessness, he would never be considered an option," He said, his dark eyes finding Yeosang's. "Choi Jongho."</p><p>Seonghwa's heart leapt to his throat and his eyes widened. At his side, Yunho furrowed his brow with hands laid on the table.</p><p>"The business heir?"</p><p>"Hardly." Hongjoong placed his glass down, full and untouched. "Figurehead is a term more well-suited. He parades as a business heir to draw others in. Free blood banks and more vampires to come beneath his care under the guise of partnership."</p><p>"I know that name," Seonghwa breathed.</p><p>"Yes," Mingi hummed. "He's made well for himself—"</p><p>"N - no, no," Seonghwa continued, shaking his head. "No, I... I <em>know </em>him. I have met him. Through my parents."</p><p>As if a shockwave had been sent across the table, each one of them silenced to look at him.</p><p>"He held this... event." Seonghwa shook his head, clearing the fog from his memory. "Some sort of ball, or gala. Many inventors like my parents were on his guest list, and I went with them."</p><p>He paused, for above all else, he could only remember Jongho's smile; perfect and persuasive, hiding a silver tongue.</p><p>"You... you think that he's a vampire?"</p><p>"I do not think it of him," Hongjoong replied, "I know it. I'm familiar with the behaviors of these creatures now, and I know the ways they hide themselves. They prefer positions of power. Far easier access that way."</p><p>"Do we have anything more to go off of than your intuition?"</p><p>Mingi straightened in his seat with arms crossed over his chest, and Hongjoong fixated him with narrowed eyes.</p><p>"Did I not just tell you?"</p><p>The cold edge of his tone seemed so uncharacteristic of him, enough to send a chill down Seonghwa's spine as he withdrew in his seat. Mingi could not hold the man's gaze for long, eventually tearing his eyes away to look at Yunho before him.</p><p>"Yeosang wants to know how we are to get to him," Yunho spoke quietly. "Going after someone so high-profile can be no easy thing."</p><p>Yeosang nodded his confirmation. Hongjoong lifted his head in solemn thought, and Seonghwa was painfully aware of Mingi looking at him.</p><p>"Perhaps... an interception of some form," Hongjoong suggested. "A scout to know his schedule—"</p><p>"Or he could get us to him."</p><p>Seonghwa raised his chin to meet Mingi's eyes, glued upon him like he was the light at the end of a tunnel.</p><p>"... me?"</p><p>"Mm," Mingi noised. "You said before that you've met him. You were allowed entry into an event of his. I haven't a doubt that he would let you in again, and us as well if you claimed us as your company."</p><p>It was all Seonghwa could do to hope that they did not hear the pounding of his heart behind his ribs. To get into a gala was one thing; to lie and sneak others in with you was another thing entirely, and in the face of blatant lies, he had always proven to be a coward who gave in at the slightest prompting.</p><p>"... well," He whispered. "I..."</p><p>"We aren't going to ask this of you," Hongjoong piped up, sending another glare in Mingi's direction. "We will find—"</p><p>"Hongjoong," Seonghwa murmured, clearing his throat. "I was... I was going to say that... I will do it."</p><p>He continuously shocked himself with his own answers far more than he did the others. It felt akin to digging his own grave, to burying himself in a hole that kept getting deeper with each thing he promised to them, to self-proclaimed vampire hunters that he would have steered clear of only a few nights prior.</p><p>Hongjoong blinked rapidly in surprise, slowly lifting his glass again. Back and forth, it tilted.</p><p>"Seonghwa, feel no pressure to—"</p><p>"I will do whatever I must," He repeated, firmer this time. "I want to."</p><p>Silence fell between them, so tense it was almost tangible, laid on the table before them and awaiting someone to break it.</p><p>Hongjoong lowered his head to stare at the surface of the table. His expression was unable to be read, shrouding his thoughts in mystery.</p><p>"... if that's what you want," He uttered at long last, exchanging a glance with Yeosang. "It would be a great help to us."</p><p>"He hosts some sort of event at the arrival of every month," Seonghwa explained, his voice small. "Seeing as April begins at midnight, he will surely have one very soon."</p><p>"Little time to prepare," Yunho muttered, pulling at the fabric of his plain shirt.</p><p>Mingi arched an eyebrow. "You have plenty of fine clothes."</p><p>"I mean ones I can get dirty..."</p><p>"There will be time to prepare once we've eaten," Hongjoong interjected, turning to look at Seonghwa once more.</p><p>Even when Seonghwa did not return his gaze, he could still feel him, and that inescapable look he'd taken on, like one would regard a tiny, fragile thing in need of care.</p><p>He was broken glass, scattered haphazardly about the ground, and even these self-proclaimed vampire hunters creeped warily around him.</p><p>Finally, he took in a sobering breath and lifted his head, greeting Hongjoong with a smile.</p><p>Even broken glass had its sharp edges.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaaa another slow update but this one took long bc it's lengthy!! &gt;&lt; i hope u guys enjoy! i've been rlly looking forward to this chapter and you'll see why 👉🏻👈🏻</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sleeping was easy that night.</p><p>A full stomach and the warmth of fresh clothes brought blissful fatigue that weighed heavy on Seonghwa's eyelids, and as he turned in for bed, he could not place just when he had fallen asleep; one moment, he was burying his face in the pillows, and the next he was deep within something that was not a dream, merely a series of aimless colors and shapes and sweet, sweet nothingness that was more than enough to offer him a bit of rest. The hollow creaks and groans as the manor settled in the night did not once rouse him, and not even the shadows of the silver bars in his window could keep him awake.</p><p>The soft glow of morning light had just begun to cast itself across his room when he jolted to wakefulness at the sound of someone's voice.</p><p>"Seonghwa."</p><p>His name rang clear as a bell in the quiet of his room, unmistakably so. With a cloud of fatigue fogging his brain, he sat up against the headboard, blinking hard and raising his hands to rub his eyes. Once the fuzziness of his vision cleared away, it only took a small shake of his head to be able to distinguish Hongjoong standing in his doorway.</p><p>He furrowed his brow in confusion, and the man quickly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.</p><p>"I'm sorry to wake you," he said, his voice low. "I... came to ask something of you."</p><p>It was strange to find Hongjoong in his room so early in the morning. It was even stranger that he came bearing a request, as he so often seemed to be of the self-reliant sort. Such an event left Seonghwa wordless for a moment, still picking his brain for any semblance of reason that could follow having just woken up.</p><p>At receiving no response, Hongjoong must have read it as an indication to continue.</p><p>"I wanted to know if you would come with me into the city," he mused. "To get fine clothes for the gala. It's always a far better thing to have some of your own... I would hate to see you having to borrow others. I will pay for it all, of course, but I would like to have you there for the sake of sizing."</p><p>His words were delayed; they only registered in Seonghwa's mind a few seconds after they had already been said. He stretched his arms above his head, considering the statement once he'd processed it.</p><p>"I have fine clothes," he replied, clearing his throat to rid himself of the morning huskiness. "I'll go home and pick them up."</p><p>Much to his dismay, Hongjoong shook his head with a pensive air about himself.</p><p>"I insist. There's hardly any harm in something new."</p><p>"Well, that's... that's true," Seonghwa mumbled, smoothing out the covers that laid across his lap, "but—"</p><p>"In... in truth, Seonghwa," he said, his voice soft, "I would... just like your company, if you will have me."</p><p>The distracted movements of Seonghwa's hands were brought to an abrupt stop, like a wrench had been tossed into the gears of his mind.</p><p>He believed himself to be caught in a dream — perhaps it had snuck up on him without his knowledge — but when he lifted his head, Hongjoong's eyes were easy to meet and they watched him with an anticipation that was unmistakably genuine, one that sought him out on <em>purpose.</em></p><p>"... of course," he breathed with a small nod. "Of course, let me make myself right."</p><p>"Are your shoes comfortable?"</p><p>Not expecting the question, Seonghwa paused.</p><p>"I suppose they are."</p><p>"I ask because... well, I'd like to walk with you to the train station."</p><p>Just as quickly as he'd come, Hongjoong was gone from his doorway and the only indication that he had not disappeared into thin air was the creaking of the staircase beneath his feet. Seonghwa wordlessly rose from his bed and glanced towards the wardrobe in an inward interrogation as to whether or not he even <em>had </em>more shoes; he had been occupied with thoughts of a more pressing matter for the past couple of nights, and his scant amount of clothing had not occurred to him often. Perhaps he was in need of more for the length of his stay at the manor, but he was not keen on admitting it.</p><p>He traded his shirt out for another, loose on his frame even when he tucked it as well as he could into pants that rode high on his waist. A long tweed coat hung on the back of his door; though he did not know to whom it belonged, he took it upon himself to slip it on over his outfit that left much to be desired in hopes of obscuring all that was hard to look at. Not hearing the voices of Yunho and Mingi chatting away the morning hours, he assumed the others to be asleep and crept silently across the hall to the washroom, where cold water splashed over his face rid him of his sleepiness.</p><p>Hongjoong was downstairs, his back turned as he stood by the door with hands occupied by something Seonghwa could not see. As he wrapped the coat tighter around himself, Seonghwa wondered if his presence was noticed, only to receive an answer when the man swept a newsboy cap up and screwed it atop his head, platinum hair tucked behind his ears.</p><p>"Ready?" He hummed, and Seonghwa nodded.</p><p>The door was held for him and he stepped outside onto the stone walkway, welcomed at once by warm sunshine. He smiled, allowing the coat to fall away from his shoulders while Hongjoong winced and stretched a hand out in front of his eyes.</p><p>"My God," He muttered, squinting in the light. "I don't think I got even a wink of sleep last night."</p><p>Seonghwa arched an eyebrow and turned to look at him.</p><p>"Why is it that you are awake now, then?" He asked, only half-genuine. Hongjoong was easy to envision working late into the night, bent over the desk in his study, pen in hand and telephone in the other.</p><p>"Because I was not going to miss the best hours to shop. You'll thank me once we arrive."</p><p>Seonghwa smiled, alight with amusement.</p><p>"You were the one trying to tell me about self-discipline over breakfast," He reminded him. "I will hear no more of it from you until you have slept a full night."</p><p>"Perhaps while we're out, I will find myself a schedule far more stable."</p><p>Seonghwa giggled as he waited before the iron gates that creaked grotesquely when Hongjoong unlocked and pushed them open. Upon their close, Hongjoong gestured him forth with a guiding hand and they left the estate to enter the city.</p><p>"Where are we going?" Seonghwa queried, eyebrows raised in curiosity as he moved closer to Hongjoong when the streets began to narrow. The man reached back to ghost his fingers over his arm, as if he made certain that he was still there.</p><p>"Into the square," He responded, raising his voice over the chatter of the walkways. "There are a few shops there that I'm fond of. I think you'll like them."</p><p>Seonghwa's excursions into the city had been few and far between. To have lived there for so long, it was still elusive to him, as he had not often been allowed to even venture past his front door unless it was to sunbathe in the yard or collect San a house or so down the street. Attending university had opened him up to see a little, but only so much; once the crowds began to grow in number as the people of Ambrosted did their rounds, he ducked his head low with a bright grin and grabbed Hongjoong's hand to catch up with him.</p><p>The train station was a bustling area that hissed with steam and smelled most prominently of cigar smoke. There, the crowds opened and thinned out as groups of people filed into train cars with briefcases and bags in hand. Large automatons with golden faces stood in booths to sell tickets, and Seonghwa's heart dropped as he remembered that his coin purse was still in his dorm room once he was pulled into the line.</p><p>"I have no money," He said, though he pushed his hands into his pockets to be absolutely sure. Ahead of him, Hongjoong hardly flinched.</p><p>"Consider today a treat of mine."</p><p>Seonghwa furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to protest when a loud whistle and the rattling of the tracks silenced him. The line moved ahead quicker than he anticipated it to, and it seemed only a few fleeting moments later that Hongjoong was thanking the vendor and pressing a ticket stub into Seonghwa's palm.</p><p>"Let's go," He hummed, nodding his head for Seonghwa to follow him. "The train won't wait."</p><p>That, it wouldn't. Just as one left the station, another followed immediately after it. Its doors squealed open and Seonghwa found himself and Hongjoong at the front of the line, having to stumble over the steps to avoid being trampled by oncoming commuters that shouldered impatiently past them.</p><p>"Here we are," Hongjoong said, and took Seonghwa by the arm to pull him into an empty booth. Seonghwa sat heavily down by the window and inhaled a grounding breath while Hongjoong seated himself before him, taking off his hat to lay it in his lap.</p><p>"I've never... navigated crowds quite like that," Seonghwa confessed and shook his hair away from his face. Hongjoong chuckled softly.</p><p>"Won't be long now," He assured. "Perhaps the square will be kinder to us."</p><p>Beneath them, the machine began to rumble to life, whirring and churning all its mechanations at once. Those boarded with them engaged in light conversation, and when the train lurched forward, it did not seem to faze them. Seonghwa clutched the seat to steady himself while Hongjoong repositioned before him as if it was nothing more than routine to him.</p><p>As a ray of sun shone through the window once the train left the station, the light hit Hongjoong's visage in a strange way; Seonghwa did not realize that he was staring until Hongjoong looked up and his smile met his eyes.</p><p>The town square could be infinite in its kindness, and even still, it could never compare to the fondness that sunlight held for Hongjoong.</p><p>✣</p><p>As the train screeched to a halt and released one final puff of steam to indicate it had reached the end of its road, those inside the train car all stood at once and began to pile towards the exit as soon as they were able. Seonghwa leaned away from them, finding himself rather claustrophobic within the booth while Hongjoong rose to his feet and offered Seonghwa his arm. Though hesitant, he accepted the aid and allowed himself to be guided effortlessly through the crowd, stepping onto the platform and into an area so unfamiliar that he had to take a moment of pause just to process it all.</p><p>Above his head stretched buildings that seemed to grow so tall they disappeared among the clouds, each one of them sending off dark puffs of smoke into the air enough to block out much of the sun. Everywhere he looked, there was a streetside shop, whether it be inside behind a gaudily-colored door or in a vendor that took up the darkened sidewalks with all of its wares on a proud display. Most of all, there were so many people, perhaps more than Seonghwa had ever seen in his life all gathered together in one place, holding hands and rocking children and carrying bags and avoiding each other all at once.</p><p>"Stay close," Hongjoong murmured. "You would not believe how easy it is to get lost here."</p><p>The man's forearm was like a lifeline, one that Seonghwa was not keen on releasing. He pressed himself close up against Hongjoong's back and left it up to him to do the navigation while he shadowed his every step with eyes that restlessly wandered, drawn to a shopkeeper in a clockwork corset; when she met his gaze, she presented a heavily-gilded watch that sprung from its face at the touch of a button, shouting it out to the street before her. A mere few vendors down, tiny mechanical dragons balanced themselves on a man's shoulder and blew steam through their noses to the giggling delight of a group of children. Seonghwa forced himself to tear his eyes away from the scene when Hongjoong pushed open a door that set off the tiny chime of a bell and pulled him inside.</p><p>The noise of the square became muffled behind glass windows with porcelain tea sets on display accompanied by the sweet smell of pastries. Hongjoong's hold on Seonghwa loosened, and he allowed his arm to fall away from his grip. His guidance was no longer needed in such a tiny space, but a moment would never pass in which it was not appreciated.</p><p>Hongjoong took in a breath, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. His hat dangled haphazardly from his back pocket with threats to hit the ground, and Seonghwa had half a mind to save it himself; he placed his hands behind his back to ward off temptation as a tinge of pink colored his cheeks.</p><p>"We can have breakfast here," Hongjoong suggested, "if you would like."</p><p>He <em>would </em>like that. The smell of the café was no help in aiding Seonghwa's desires, though the dread of exersizing any more of Hongjoong's generosity was far stronger than what little hunger bothered him at such an hour of the morning.</p><p>"I'll just have tea," He said softly. "I'm not that hungry."</p><p>Hongjoong let a moment pass for him to change his mind, but when he didn't, he nodded his understanding.</p><p>"Take a seat," He said, words thrown over his shoulder. "Those by the window get quite warm in the sun."</p><p>Hongjoong was right — the tables next to the tea set displays were bathed in the bright golden light of the morning hours. The sun must have found its way through the clouds of smoke that darkened the sky. He glanced back at Hongjoong, who stood at the counter in a quiet exchange with the shopkeeper, a young woman who smiled in recognition at the sight of him.</p><p>"Ah," she noised, "the hunter."</p><p>Seonghwa's eyes widened at the greeting. He had not been under the impression that Hongjoong's way of living was common knowledge known by the public. How could it be?! The city, already in disarray, would be sent into a panic at the mere notion of a vampire hunter, because they existed for a reason, and to know that something was being hunted that one had not thought existed was nothing short of jarring.</p><p>He sank down into one of the seats, watching Hongjoong as he laughed in polite conversation with the woman and accepted a small tray with two dainty teacups placed atop it. He gave a careful bow, then searched the room for Seonghwa until he found him sitting in the sunlight and returned to him, placing the tray gently down on the tabletop.</p><p>"I hope you like Earl Grey," he said, handing Seonghwa one of the teacups. "I was not certain of your tastes... I didn't even think to ask."</p><p>"How is it that everyone knows about your hunting aside from me?"</p><p>At the unexpected nature of the question, Hongjoong paused; Seonghwa brought the tea closer to warm his palms, looking up at him with eyes narrowed in scrutiny.</p><p>"... well," Hongjoong began, seating himself in front of him, "it's just that, not everyone knows."</p><p>"She seemed to know," Seonghwa remarked, nodding in the direction of the shopkeeper. "I only ever heard about it from Yunho. I feel it would have been more appropriate to hear it from you."</p><p>Hongjoong leaned forward, taking the remaining teacup in his hands. He raised it to his lips to gingerly blow on the surface, and Seonghwa's gaze fixated unmovingly on him.</p><p>"I didn't want to overwhelm you," He finally replied. "You were already in a strange place with strange people. To find out about the hunting thereafter would be much to take in."</p><p>"I found out because of an ax in a storage closet."</p><p>"It was not my intention to keep anything from you, Seonghwa," He explained, his voice almost apologetic. "Don't be mistaken... Sana believes me to be a big game hunter. She doesn't know the truth."</p><p>Seonghwa glanced once more at the shopkeeper, sorting through bills behind the counter. He raised his cup to his lips and took a slow sip. A rich taste filled his mouth and calmed him.</p><p>"So you're a liar," He deduced. Hongjoong merely smiled.</p><p>"Obscuring the truth for the sake of protection is not lying. If what we do was made public, the good people of Ambrosted would set the streets ablaze."</p><p>A low hum of acknowledgement sounded in the back of Seonghwa's throat. He would have liked more than anything to stay aggravated with him, and yet something within him would not allow it.</p><p>"Thank you for the tea," He murmured.</p><p>"So you like Earl Grey?"</p><p>Hongjoong looked up at him with a charming grin, and despite himself, he laughed.</p><p>"Earl Grey is just fine."</p><p>✣</p><p>With the warmth of tea settled over in his stomach and Hongjoong's pleasant company, Seonghwa found himself in a far better mood once they left the café. The slow aging of the morning had brought more people to the square, all walking about in their excited chatter and rapid movements. Seonghwa insisted on clinging to Hongjoong's sleeve as the man expertly weaved their path through the crowd, parting from it into the heart of the square where a large fountain had been erected in the center of the cobblestone walkway, lined with trees in full bloom and neatly-trimmed rose bushes.</p><p>The sights, the sounds, the smells; they were all so <em>new.</em></p><p>A light tug on his arm prompted him forward and he followed close behind Hongjoong once more, bumping shoulders and murmuring apologies as they came upon a plaza that was home to many shops, vast in their differences and all lined up beside one another. Hongjoong seemed set on where they needed to go, and Seonghwa trusted his judgment.</p><p>Glancing over his shoulder at him, Hongjoong placed his cap back on over his hair, disheveled from the breeze.</p><p>"Have you ever been to Rosie's?"</p><p>Seonghwa shook his head, and Hongjoong smiled in a manner almost conspiratory. Before he was able to ask what that was, another door was held open for him and he moved inside.</p><p>The smell of cigar smoke and flowery fragrance inside the shop reminded him of the shirt he'd been gifted the night prior, the very same one he was still wearing. He turned to Hongjoong with a smile and found that he met his eyes at once, as they had already been looking at him.</p><p>"Here we are," He hummed, lifting his head towards the lights. "Home to the finest clothes in all of Ambrosted. I'd take my business nowhere else."</p><p>Seonghwa giggled, rubbing the silky material of a shirt in-between his thumb and forefinger. It was decorated with far too many frills to truly capture his interest, but his fingertips craved the texture.</p><p>"Get what you like," Hongjoong told him. "I'll do the very same."</p><p>It was not often that Seonghwa was allowed free roam in a clothes shop. In fact, he could not remember the last time he'd had such a privilege — only because he was so used to his parents picking out his attire for him. He had little say in what he wore, which was usually the traditional styles from their own youth, though he had always looked on in admiration at the unique appearances of those his age and the ways they expressed themselves through their clothing.</p><p>The opportunity had set itself out before him, and this time, there was no hold on him to keep him back.</p><p>As Hongjoong took himself easily through the displays, Seonghwa tentatively began his own search, brushing his fingertips over enticing material and turning over price tags. He could wear things that satisfied him while still being kind to Hongjoong's wallet, he was <em>sure </em>of that.</p><p>The store was large with a lower and an upper floor, but his company was hard to lose. Each time he raised his head to look for Hongjoong, he found his platinum hair at once, especially when it was freeing itself in soft locks from beneath his patterned cap. The man already had a shirt and coat draped over his arm, and he was browsing still. Biting his lip, Seonghwa crossed the floor back to his side, softly clearing his throat to get his attention.</p><p>"I don't know what to get," He confessed.</p><p>Hongjoong looked back at him, tilting his head.</p><p>"Not an idea?"</p><p>"No," He mumbled. "I don't... w - well, I don't shop often, you know. Not for myself."</p><p>Seonghwa stepped back as Hongjoong tore his attention away from a display of cufflinks and turned to look at him, shouldering what he'd grabbed for himself.</p><p>"That's quite alright," He said, nodding for Seonghwa to follow once again. "We can look around."</p><p>All day, he had trailed after Hongjoong like a lost puppy, and he was at it once more. There was one thing he despised more than being worried over, and it was his own helplessness; a life of relying on others had made him crave independence, and an occasion that called for requesting aid could do nothing but embarrass him.</p><p>Hongjoong, however, seemed to take no issue with it, perusing the racks without so much as a second thought.</p><p>He paused at the sight of a satin dress shirt, pure white with lantern sleeves. Seonghwa flinched as he suddenly held it up to his body, narrowing his eyes as if he imagined it on him.</p><p>"Do you like this?" He asked, and Seonghwa nodded slowly. With a smile, he presented it to him.</p><p>"Hold on to it. We'll see if it fits."</p><p>Seonghwa knew that his face was dark with a blush, though he liked to pretend that it wasn't. Hongjoong was quick to continue browsing and Seonghwa kept up with him, though he spent much more time with his head down than he did looking for clothes.</p><p>Without a moment's hesitation, Hongjoong swept a black frock coat from its display and examined it just as he'd done the shirt. He glanced at Seonghwa, and before he even opened his mouth to ask, he spoke up.</p><p>"I... I like that one."</p><p>Hongjoong draped it over his forearm with a kind smile and went forth. Seonghwa moved to go after him, but the lights casting down upon another display stand stopped him in his tracks.</p><p>"... oh," He breathed.</p><p>In just a moment's time, his gaze had been captured by a corset, black with thin lace-up strings and bright red roses embroidered into its material. It was a pointed cincher, meant to hug a waist in a manner most flattering; above all, it was <em>beautiful.</em></p><p>His throat bobbed with a swallow and he raised his head to find Hongjoong. The man had gone a few steps ahead of him, unaware of Seonghwa's wandering eyes, which he was relieved and disappointed by at the same time, for he longed to ask him what he thought but he did not want to draw any extra attention to his inward dilemma, for it was bold and daunting and expressive and everything Seonghwa wanted and feared from himself.</p><p>He reached out and ghosted his fingertips over it, imagining how he would look, how he would <em>feel.</em></p><p>The woman in the clockwork corset and her red-lipped smile flashed at the forefront of his mind.</p><p>Without another thought, he draped it over his arm and caught up to Hongjoong in a few long strides.</p><p>"We needn't much," Hongjoong said, looking over his shoulder at him. "Do you want to try them on?"</p><p>Seonghwa hesitated, then stammered out a "yes," which prompted a curt nod from Hongjoong. When he started up the staircase to the upper floor, Seonghwa went after him, holding his selections tightly to his chest.</p><p>The fitting room was simple on the outside, nothing more than a door in the wall that allowed for entry of what seemed like only one person. Behind the door, however, was a boxy space far larger on the inside, holding two rooms with a thick red curtain that acted as a divider between them to prevent prying eyes. Seonghwa caught a glimpse of himself in a round mirror and flinched in surprise.</p><p>"Right, then," Hongjoong hummed, and that was that.</p><p>He swept the curtain to the side and it fell back into place behind him, leaving Seonghwa alone on his end of the room. Slowly, he looked down at what he'd gathered in his arms, painfully aware of his own heartbeat in his ears.</p><p>Careful to avoid the mirror, he pulled his shirt off over his head and shook dark hair away from his face. The quiet allowed him some time to think, but he was uncertain as to whether or not that was something he wanted; he chose to focus instead on the sound of Hongjoong's quiet steps on the opposing side of the curtain. The new shirt slipped easily on and fit loose on his frame, allowing some exposure for his collarbone.</p><p>"So... how are we to do this?" He asked, and broke the silence.</p><p>"... do what?"</p><p>"The gala. Jongho. You say he's a vampire, yes?"</p><p>"Ah... yes." Hongjoong cleared his throat. "Well, if we're lucky, we can get him cornered."</p><p>Seonghwa pulled at his sleeve. "What then? Do you kill him?"</p><p>"... essentially."</p><p>He noised a soft <em>hm, </em>leaning over to take the corset in his hands and wrap it around his waist. "Is this how it goes all the time?"</p><p>"We're not often lucky enough for it to happen so easily."</p><p>"You must be afraid."</p><p>"Afraid? No. No, I'm not afraid of them."</p><p>Seonghwa reached behind his back to pull the laces tighter. "You've never had anything... happen?"</p><p>Hongjoong's response was not immediate, for silence fell between them, just long enough for Seonghwa to wonder if he had said something wrong.</p><p>"... no," He finally answered. "No... no, not yet, nothing's happened."</p><p>"... S - so... so what is it, then? Stake to the heart or silver?"</p><p>"Well, in truth, it depends on where you hit..."</p><p>Hongjoong began to ramble in an explanation about what weapons would do well and what wouldn't, and Seonghwa grit his teeth in a strained effort to tie the corset's laces. They were small and flimsy, and each attempt left them slipping from his fingers again and again in a repeated cycle.</p><p>He let out a soft sigh and dropped his shoulders in defeat, only for his heart to promptly jump to his throat and provoke a blush that irritated his cheeks.</p><p>He couldn't lace it himself.</p><p><em>God, </em>why couldn't he lace it himself?</p><p>He winced through his teeth, tilting his head back as if he was to curse at the sky; it died on his lips.</p><p>"... so the stake does work, but silver is—"</p><p>"H - Hongjoong?"</p><p>The man's voice trailed off, allowing himself time to register that he'd been called.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut tightly, fumbling with the strings once more.</p><p>"I can't... I - I can't... tie this by myself."</p><p>Humiliation was a disease, and he was deathly ill in that moment.</p><p>"I... I need your help... please."</p><p>If his voice got any smaller, he was certain it would fade. He heard the steps on the other end of the room, new fabric against skin.</p><p>The curtain was pulled to the side, and his face grew hot with a blush at the mere thought of being seen.</p><p>"I... may not even get it," He mumbled quickly, words spilling from his mouth, uncontained. "But... I thought it was pretty and—"</p><p>Fingertips brushed against his own and shut him up at once as he freed the strings and gave them to Hongjoong. His heart held itself tightly in his throat, and it was all he could do to swallow it thickly as he finally looked up at the mirror.</p><p>Hongjoong was close to him. So close that he was acutely aware of the soft breaths against the back of his neck, the man's face framed by messy tresses of his hair and his shirt left unbuttoned just enough to allow Seonghwa sight of his sternum. His attentive gaze remained transfixed on the laces, still and calm.</p><p>Seonghwa breathed a noise he meant to stifle, a labored <em>oh </em>that passed his lips and turned his stomach.</p><p>The last of the laces tightened the corset against his waist to steal one last breath from him. Hongjoong chuckled softly, pulling his hands back to look up at him.</p><p>"It is pretty," He said.</p><p>
  <em>Pretty.</em>
</p><p>Seonghwa's tongue would allow him to say nothing, only able to nod his gratitude as he pulled the coat on over his shoulders and faced his image in the mirror.</p><p>Never in his life had he found it difficult to look away from himself, but something had changed.</p><p>He was <em>pretty.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seonghwa would not go so far as to say that he left the city square a completely different person, but newness covered him like a blanket, and there was some sense of reinvention of the self that even Ambrosted's bustling streets could not quite seem to shake once he walked among them again. He felt like a freshly-oiled machine, only able to function on his own once the dust had been knocked off of his bolts and the wrench was removed from his gears.</p><p>By the time he and Hongjoong made it back to the train station, April's midday heat bore down on them with a bright sun. It brought fond memories of Seonghwa's summertimes as a child, and while he soaked it in like it was a precious gift with a neck tilted back towards its warmth, Hongjoong yawned and rubbed his eyes, loud enough to prompt Seonghwa to turn and look at him.</p><p>"I don't think I will ever understand you," He said, amused. Hongjoong looked only acutely puzzled.</p><p>"What is there not to understand?"</p><p>"How you drag about in the daylight and get around perfectly well once it's dark," Seonghwa explained, throwing a careless gesture towards the sky with one hand. "You're backwards."</p><p>Hongjoong silenced, and Seonghwa could only assume that he was allowing himself a moment in his fatigue to pick through the words. Once they registered as they were supposed to, he smiled.</p><p>"In turn, I don't understand why you're surprised," Hongjoong replied, gently taking Seonghwa's arm to lead him up onto the platform. "You admitted to the very same vice just the other morning over breakfast."</p><p>"But the difference between you and I," Seonghwa continued, "is that I wake up, even still."</p><p>A ticket was pressed flat into his palm. Against his skin, Hongjoong's fingertips were warm.</p><p>"It sounds to me like I am more well-rested than you, then."</p><p>Eyes alight with humor, Hongjoong moved past him to stand in wait for the train. Smiling, Seonghwa shook his head before he returned to his side. Each day he knew Hongjoong never failed to reveal to him a pleasant surprise — nights prior, he had believed him to be cold and solemn, but time spent with him made him out to be someone Seonghwa could play with, someone whose laughing nature he had grown to be quite fond of.</p><p>Their train rolled into the station with a loud whistle to announce its arrival and Seonghwa felt the crowd around him become taut with haste. Remembering their ruthlessness from earlier in the day, he stepped closer to Hongjoong in a quick act of self-preservation, their footsteps falling in time with one another as they hurriedly attempted to be faster than the rest. Seonghwa found himself briefly distracted when his wandering gaze fixated on the train's shining wheels, but a tug on his hand pulled him up the steps and into the train car at once.</p><p>Their shopping bags were tossed into the seats first, then their bodies followed. Seonghwa narrowly avoided the pushing shoulders of the crowd behind them as he folded gracelessly into their booth while Hongjoong arranged himself accordingly, his hat sticking out of the pocket of his coat and his hair disheveled from the breeze. He ran an uncaring hand through it and brushed it away from his eyes.</p><p>"These are your <em>good people of Ambrosted," </em>Seonghwa mumbled as he straightened his back out against the seat and sent a glance in the direction of the crowd beside them. He began to stretch his legs out, and found that his knee slipped in between Hongjoong's; blushing, he reeled it back at once. The booth was smaller than he imagined. As if he had not noticed, Hongjoong merely hummed.</p><p>"They're anxious to get home on time, I see," He observed, and that was that. Even in his irritation, Seonghwa could not blame them; the familiarity of the manor and Yunho's friendly ways were easy things to miss.</p><p>With what room their booth allowed, Seonghwa moved his shopping bag from its position squished against the window and placed it in the empty space at his side. It was paper, and the word <em>Rosie's </em>proudly emblazoned itself across it in red ink, the emblem to his first self-made stylistic choice. He had half a mind to take it as a souvenir, something to fold up and keep with him in his pocket at all times, like others would keep a locket or a watch. He wasn't sure how he would explain that to those who were inquisitive, and elected to think about it later, preferably when he laid in bed that night.</p><p>Lifting his head to meet Hongjoong's gaze would find him slumped back in his seat with arms crossed loosely over his chest and his chin at his clavicle. For a moment, Seonghwa was alarmed, believing him to have already fallen asleep until he noticed the slow blinking of his eyes.</p><p>"You truly didn't sleep even a little last night?" He queried, and leaned forward with a furrowed brow. Clearing his throat, Hongjoong shook his head as if to wake himself from a daydream.</p><p>"Forgive me," He murmured. "I... try not to nod off."</p><p>His voice sounded forced, like he was painfully pushing words into existence from the weary back of his throat. He squinted in the sunlight and turned his face away from it to stretch his arms above his head in what Seonghwa assumed was another fruitless attempt to wake himself up. Swallowing thickly, Seonghwa folded his hands in his lap.</p><p>"You must make a vow to me that you will sleep at night from this day forward."</p><p>Hongjoong laughed. Seonghwa was only half-joking. He wondered if he could tell.</p><p>"Be assured," He said, "I'm quite alright..."</p><p>Just as the words had made their way past his lips, he reached out to secure a hand on the seat and missed, leaning slowly forward like a freshly-cut tree. His heart leaping to his throat, Seonghwa stood and stopped him before he could crumple to the floor.</p><p>"Okay," He breathed. "Okay, this... must be arranged."</p><p>Though he knew he should not have even noticed, he felt his cheeks redden at the feeling of his hands against Hongjoong's chest. Beneath his shirt, it was warm and taut with muscle, though Seonghwa allowed himself no time to think about it as he moved to the empty space at the man's side and flinched when his chin knocked unceremoniously against his shoulder.</p><p><em>"Mm," </em>Hongjoong noised, brow furrowed. His eyes fluttered open and he passed a sobering hand over his face, letting out a deep breath. "I don't mean to be trouble..."</p><p>"You're not," Seonghwa said quickly. "Just... rest a little. I don't mind."</p><p>He could only hope that Hongjoong knew what he meant, for he did not want to say it out loud. The contemplative silence from him was enough to drive anyone mad, especially someone whose face was already as red as Seonghwa's.</p><p>Luckily, Hongjoong had impeccable intuition; Seonghwa stilled himself as he rocked sluggishly to the side and rested his cheek against his shoulder. At the contact, Seonghwa's heart began a marathon in his chest, one that he could only hope Hongjoong was unable to hear despite his closeness to him.</p><p>"Th - thank you for today," He stammered over the blood that pounded in his ears.</p><p>His response was a tiny hum of acknowledgement. A puff of breath against his neck.</p><p>Inwardly, Seonghwa wished that he could still his heart just as well as he could still himself to be a pillow.</p><p>✣</p><p>When the train lurched to a halt, Seonghwa stretched out a hand to keep Hongjoong from rocking forward, but he had already been beat to it. After a ride that had given him time for a fragment of sleep, he slowly lifted himself from Seonghwa's shoulder and took all of his warmth with him. The lines of his shirt had left red marks across his cheek, and Seonghwa would have been amused were it not for the concern that weighed heavy in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>"... Thank you," Hongjoong said, dipping his chin in a display of gratitude. "I meant to stay awake."</p><p>Seonghwa offered him a smile.</p><p>"I guessed that much."</p><p>Hongjoong returned the kind expression, and that was that.</p><p>Seonghwa's racing heart, however, refused to let it be.</p><p>He chose to ignore it as they gathered their bags and awaited to jump in at the back of the crowd, the very last ones to step onto the platform. The sky was much bluer there, and the people were far more traditional; there were no corsets or red lips or mechanical dragons to be seen on the outskirts of Ambrosted. Just simplicity, the very sort that he'd grown up with.</p><p>Rolling his shoulders, Hongjoong moved through the crowd and Seonghwa followed close behind him. Being guided by him felt almost natural then, like it was something he'd been doing forever when, truly, it had only been for the day.</p><p>He would have trusted no other to see him through a crowd. Hongjoong made an art form out of it.</p><p>They were silent on their way back to the manor, though peacefully so. Seonghwa had found himself in the midst of many silences before where the awkwardness was palpable, but there was something soothing about being quiet with Hongjoong, something he could not place. He never felt the desire to speak up and end it.</p><p>Nonetheless, he did.</p><p>"Did you hear me earlier?" He queried.</p><p>Hongjoong's movements were still heavy with fatigue. For a moment, Seonghwa wondered if he'd understood him then; he opened his mouth to repeat himself when he received an answer.</p><p>"Hear what?"</p><p>"That I thanked you," He said. "I loved today, and it was... well, it was... kind of you to take me out."</p><p>
  <em>And pay for the train, and lunch, and my clothes.</em>
</p><p>He bit his lip, merely watching the bobbing of the back of Hongjoong's head as he walked. Being so close, he could see dark roots beginning to grow back in through the white.</p><p>"I should thank you," Hongjoong replied calmly, "for coming with me."</p><p>Seonghwa would have liked nothing more than for him to accept his appreciation without condition, and his response did not satisfy him. Nonetheless, he did not insist; he doubted he had the energy to argue with him in the first place.</p><p>The gates of the manor finally revealed themselves to the pair at the end of the cobblestone street after a few minutes' walk. Hongjoong had brandished the key by the time they were before them, and their loud creaking had already begun to sound like something that was not <em>quite </em>home to Seonghwa, but the comfort was certainly familiar. They were not alone in the courtyard, for the sound of the gates alerted Yeosang's attention, who emerged from the garden and greeted them with a smile.</p><p>He was still toweling fresh soil off of his hands when he joined Seonghwa at his side and offered to help him carry his bag in with a questioning gesture. Seonghwa nodded politely in an assurance that he would take care of it, but his response did not end there. Leaning closer to Yeosang, he lowered his voice.</p><p>"Will you see to it that he makes it to bed?"</p><p>He sent a glance in Hongjoong's direction, though it was not needed. Yeosang let out a quiet <em>hm </em>of amusement, the only sound Seonghwa had ever heard from him as he nodded and caught up to Hongjoong. Seonghwa caught the door behind them once he pulled his shoes off and shut it in his wake, shaking off the buzz of the city and quieting the noise of his mind once he was within the walls of some place he knew.</p><p>Hongjoong went straight for the staircase and Yeosang trailed along nonchalantly behind him, likely to give the impression that he was simply going about his way rather than looking after him. Seonghwa was grateful for the gesture — he had yet to discern for himself if his concern was overstepping some form of unspoken boundary. Hongjoong could take care of himself. He knew that. Even still, he did not like to think of him having to do it all the time.</p><p>The lower floor was overcome with a sweet smell, and Seonghwa quickly discovered it to be wafting from the kitchen. Should the manor's kitchen ever be left unoccupied, it would be a strange day indeed; he had yet to find it completely empty at any hour. He stepped through the threshold with his bag in hand, half-expecting to find Yunho, though he looked up and met the back of Mingi's head, his long hair pulled back with a single strip of ribbon.</p><p>Similarly to the night prior, the man was leaned over the stove as a kettle boiled before him. In one hand was a kitchen knife, its point digging into the countertop as if placed there by habit. Seonghwa's entrance did not seem to be noticed, and he had no plans to draw any attention to himself, though he softly cleared his throat as he crossed the floor to place his bag in the seat of a chair. Mingi looked back at him, then turned once again.</p><p>The floorboards above their heads creaked and Seonghwa looked up just in time to hear a door closing. The thought of Hongjoong taking himself to bed and finally getting some rest came as a large relief to him, a weight off of his shoulders that he had not even known he was carrying. Letting out a breath, he dug through his bag and found his hair clip beneath all the clothes, pulling dark fringe out of his face.</p><p>"Off to sleep, I guess," Mingi piped up, and Seonghwa flinched. He had not expected him to speak.</p><p>"Ah... yes, I presume," He said with a small nod, gathering his bag again. "I don't believe he slept last night. Not a bit."</p><p>Mingi scoffed. He did <em>so </em>like to do that.</p><p>"Must be so," He hummed carelessly, and Seonghwa could not help but be mortified at the thought that this occurred frequently.</p><p>"Do you know... why that could be?" He asked, furrowing his brow.</p><p>The flames beneath the stove began to die down. Tipping the kettle, Mingi filled a teacup with dark liquid.</p><p>"Hunting nocturnal beings tends to make you nocturnal yourself."</p><p>Mingi's response was simple. Seonghwa knew that he would be mulling over it for days to come.</p><p>Taking his lower lip in between his teeth, he gently bit down and sent another glance up to the boards above his head. He was distracted with himself enough that he did not notice when Mingi turned to look at him.</p><p>"Want some?" The man offered, lifting his teacup. When Seonghwa hesitated, he continued. "It's jasmine."</p><p><em>Jasmine, </em>he thought. Memories of sitting in front of the fireplace back at home flooded his mind. Jasmine tea had been a childhood favorite of his, though it seemed as if he had not had it in years. Smiling, he nodded, and watched as Mingi poured him a cup and passed it to him with large hands that dwarfed the tiny porcelain figure.</p><p>"Thank you," He murmured, and the man noised an <em>mm, </em>a common response among the residents of the manor. He placed his bag back down at his feet and lowered himself into a chair, comfortably crossing one leg over the other.</p><p>He hadn't an idea if Mingi wanted to talk or not. Among the others, he was shaping up to be the hardest for Seonghwa to figure out. He spoke far more than Yeosang, and yet he still felt as if he knew the blonde, at least a little; Mingi was something else entirely. His doubt for him kept him quiet, but it was not meant to last.</p><p>"Hongjoong told me more of vampires," He said, breaking the silence between them in between sips of tea. "How it is you... hunt and kill them."</p><p>"They're like cockroaches," Mingi replied in an answer Seonghwa did not expect. "Not easy to get rid of."</p><p>Seonghwa blinked in surprise, shifting slightly in his seat.</p><p>"He... did not say that." He raised his tea to his lips, and Mingi smiled in amusement.</p><p>"He wouldn't. He's far too polite. Even to them." He leaned back against the countertop, one metallic arm crossed over his chest. "Polite as one can be when you're out to kill them, I suppose."</p><p>"And what of you?" Seonghwa arched an eyebrow. "Are you polite?"</p><p>Mingi's expression was thoughtful, and Seonghwa thought for a moment that he may just say yes.</p><p>"I see no point in trying," He said. "I use an ax."</p><p>The tea came up too fast as Seonghwa gasped, and he smacked a hand over his mouth to keep from choking. His reflection in the gleaming blade of the silver ax behind a door upstairs was a difficult thing to forget, and though he could have guessed its purpose, knowing that it had been used and would likely be used again drew all the blood from his face and sent it straight to the pit of his stomach.</p><p>"... oh," He noised, voice strained.</p><p>"I have no plans to use it on you," Mingi said. He was smiling. It must have been his attempt at a joke.</p><p>"It just... surprised me, is all," Seonghwa managed. The rest of the tea looked like a hard thing to force himself through, but he tilted his head back and downed the rest of it in one swallow. It warmed his throat and burned the back of his tongue.</p><p>Shaking his head slightly, he rose once again from his chair and took his bag in his hand to finally bring it to its destination upstairs. He was acutely aware of the weight of Mingi's gaze, but he did nothing more than dip his head to him as he began to leave.</p><p>"Hey," Mingi began, and he halted in his tracks.</p><p>"I... I did not intend to put you in danger when I spoke of the gala last night," He said, his voice alarmingly small. "Don't think this of me... rather, I... I trust you to do well. You have a good head on your shoulders."</p><p>
  <em>Trust.</em>
</p><p>The word was heavy, ringing a gong in his head that rattled him to his core. He was <em>trusted </em>by them.</p><p>The taste of jasmine was still fresh on his tongue, and newness still covered him like a blanket.</p><p>"I'll do you well," He said, and he meant it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i have a crush on mingi idk if u guys can tell<br/>anyway i hope y'all liked this chapter!! &gt;&lt; let me know what u think below! also, i wanted to ask u guys abt the gala scene since it's coming so soon: would u prefer that i broke it up into 2 ~ 3 chapters, or into one big one??~<br/>let me know!! as always, thank u all so much for ur love! 🥺</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as April's burning yellow sun had begun to part the clouds and warm breezes weaved through the city streets into opened windows, the announcement of a gala hosted by Choi Jongho came following hot on its heels.</p><p>It came every month without fail in a pattern that Seonghwa did not know he'd familiarized himself with until he found that it suddenly had something to do with him. It was always announced only a few days prior, likely so that guests would be scrambling to make it in their excitement. The man's gala, just like every other, was nothing more than a display of wealth and an opportunity to mingle among others of identical backgrounds, chortling and conversating over half-finished glasses of wine held in between gloved fingers. If anyone knew this well, it was Seonghwa — such affairs were popular among esteemed inventors, the very same sort that his parents happened to be. He'd found himself within the throng of partygoers many times before, and he knew how to navigate them.</p><p>It was a far more pressing matter, though, when he knew that he would face the task of sneaking the others in without suspicion. If he thought about it too long, it would dawn on him that the lives of many people relied on his success if it so happened that Hongjoong had been telling him the truth all along, and he would be plagued with an incessant bout of nausea, one not easily shaken even by the warm and comforting contents of Hongjoong's garter flask.</p><p>Days passed him by in a haze, and the fifth of April had come much faster than he had expected it to. Each moment had been made up of thinking about the upcoming event, no matter what it was he happened to be doing — gardening with Yunho, or cooking with Yeosang. The anticipation stuck to him like a shadow, and he thought fearfully once more of that place In-Between, that murky depth of his mind that left him suspended in disbelief and an incessant desire to run.</p><p>Running was an option long past; a mere fantasy, and a hand that laid on his shoulder to rouse him from his thoughts was reality.</p><p>"Seonghwa," Hongjoong said, and he took in a soft breath of alarm, straightening at once in his seat. He was not sure he would ever grow accustomed to hearing the sound of his own name in the man's voice, for it seemed so foreign, as if it was not meant to be there. At his reaction, Hongjoong withdrew his hand.</p><p>"Are you alright?"</p><p>It came softly, only for him to hear. With a small shake of his head, he cleared his throat and nodded.</p><p>"Yes... I'm sorry." He inclined his head to look up at Hongjoong, met with his ever-patient gaze. Letting out a small hum, Hongjoong raised his hands to pull his hair away from his face, tying it loosely back. Its movement brought forth the prominence of the man's jawline, something Seonghwa only seemed to first observe in that moment.</p><p>"May I sit with you?"</p><p>Seonghwa redirected his misguided attention, finding Hongjoong's eyes once more. Wordlessly, he nodded, and Hongjoong offered him a smile before he seated himself in the parlor chair at his side. The day had just aged into the afternoon, and there was still sunlight that beamed in through the window. It illuminated half of Hongjoong's visage, leaving the other side in shadow.</p><p>"The gala is tonight," He said. Seonghwa responded with a low hum of acknowledgement, for he knew. Hongjoong's chair creaked beneath him when he shifted his weight to rest his chin atop his palm.</p><p>"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," He whispered.</p><p>Seonghwa managed a smile, one that barely broke the steeliness of his face. "Thank you," He said, "but that's not what I worry for. I can hold my own, I'm sure."</p><p>"Oh, I don't doubt that you can." Despite Seonghwa's gloomy demeanour, Hongjoong's tone was light. "I just don't want you to."</p><p>Seonghwa intended to fix him with a glare of disapproval, but his efforts fell through at the very last moment. His taut shoulders loosened when he breathed a sigh and sank further into his seat, all of his grace and poise seeing itself out.</p><p>"That's kind of you," He replied quietly. "I don't worry about getting hurt."</p><p>Hongjoong said nothing, though he felt the weight of his gaze, and he could not place if he preferred the silence.</p><p>"You must understand that my family is not <em>close </em>with Choi Jongho." He stared ahead when he spoke, drab and listless. "I've met him, but I cannot say for certain if he'll even remember me or who my parents are. He may refuse us entry on such grounds."</p><p>His concerns always sounded so small when he voiced them, like a bug that could be squashed with just a moment's worth of critical thought. The possibility of being harmed by someone or something felt out of reach, while rejection at the door from a lack of recognition seemed so terribly likely; one thing was worse than death, and it was failure.</p><p>Hongjoong did not look away from him once, and Seonghwa inwardly asked himself how it was that he could stay still for so long. There was no bouncing of the knee or restless flitting of his eyes, instead nothing more than uninterrupted focus, even as he spoke.</p><p>"Don't feel trapped in this," He said, his voice low in the space between them. "You are not bound to us, and you certainly have no obligation to get us in."</p><p>"I'll get you in," Seonghwa responded quickly. "I will... try my absolute best, anyway."</p><p>"I insist, Seonghwa—"</p><p>"I want to." He lifted his head and turned to meet his eyes. "For your sake and for my own, I want to try. Allow this of me."</p><p>Hongjoong's mouth opened as if he intended to say more, but nothing was uttered. He opened his palm to press it against the armrest of his chair and curl his fingers around the glossy wood.</p><p>"Act as you wish," He finally said, his words even. "The others and I will let you take the lead at the door. All I ask from that point forward is that you keep yourself at a distance should things get messy."</p><p>More than anything, Seonghwa would have liked to be offended by his request. He wanted to jump from his seat and accuse him of calling him weak, but something within him would not allow aggravation to even tease his senses, for nothing about it angered him. Were it not for the lingering disbelief in their mission, he would go as far as to agree with him, for he had never been the sort to know what to do when things got messy. He was not built for such situations and never had been.</p><p>He found his attention fixated on the fireplace at the center of the wall, caged and unlit. He imagined the warm hearth fire that burned behind Hongjoong's eyes, and he wondered if he could set it ablaze with a mere glance.</p><p>"That, I can do with certainty."</p><p>He did not have to see Hongjoong to know that he smiled at the reply. His time knowing him had been short, but Seonghwa was already learning many of the small things about him that he would not care to know about others.</p><p>From one of them, there was more to say. Seonghwa juggled with the thought, then turned to face him once more, though no word left his mouth before they were suddenly joined by a voice in the doorway.</p><p>"Seonghwa?" Yunho mused, eyes darting in between him and Hongjoong. "The study... there's a phone call. For you."</p><p>Whatever Seonghwa had planned to say died in his throat. He hadn't an idea what it was going to be, anyway.</p><p>"Thank you," He said softly and rose from his seat. Behind him, Hongjoong did the same, and he was able to catch him telling Yunho to begin preparations for the gala before his voice faded beneath the creaky staircase.</p><p>As if expecting him, the door to the study was left ajar where the phone laid in wait for his hand to pick it up. There was only a number of people that could have been calling to ask for him, and he had an idea that he knew exactly who it was.</p><p>In one swift motion, he raised the phone to his ear.</p><p>"San."</p><p>There followed a giddy laugh on the other end. "How did you know?"</p><p>He smiled. "I don't have to hear you to know it's you. We've been friends for... what, over a decade now?"</p><p>"Dare I say it's been longer than that?" San laughed once more, and Seonghwa envied his gaiety. "I just wanted to call you and be sure that these vampire killers have not done away with your head yet."</p><p>"They are civilized people, you know," Seonghwa hummed, leaning back against the edge of Hongjoong's desk. "And they far prefer the term 'investigators.'"</p><p>"Ah... vampire killing investigators. Whatever they may be. They had best be good to my friend."</p><p>Seonghwa chuckled softly. "I can confidently say that I believe I have been fed better in the last week than you have in your entire life."</p><p>"That is a bold statement, considering the maids' cooking."</p><p>Something tipped over behind Seonghwa, and he quickly straightened from his place against the desk, cheeks coloring with a blush while San continued to speak into his ear.</p><p>"Did you hear that... that Hyunjin's funeral was yesterday?"</p><p>The sound of the boy's name was enough to freeze him in his place. For a fleeting moment, he tasted blood on his tongue.</p><p>"... I didn't," He mumbled. "I'm... sorry to have missed it."</p><p>"You missed nothing, really," San continued, voice gradually lowering. "It was the same as any other funeral. It was... strange, though. To think of him like that."</p><p>
  <em>Dead.</em>
</p><p>Seonghwa did not wish to talk about it. If he had his way, he would never think about it again, and such a blight on his life would be forgotten while Hyunjin continued to live on in his blissfully ignorant subconscious. To live such a lie would be a sweeter thing than whatever <em>this </em>was.</p><p>Clearing his throat, he brought the phone nearer to his ear, and just in time, San changed the subject.</p><p>"B - but that's that," He said quickly, discomfort still biting at the edges of his words. "What of you? Will you be coming home soon?"</p><p>"The investigation still goes on," Seonghwa replied, glancing over his shoulder at the door. "I told them I would be glad to help them solve this at their home."</p><p>"... Seonghwa, these things could take... I mean, <em>years </em>to solve."</p><p>"Which is why they'll need all the help they can get, no?"</p><p>San fell silent on the other end, though he did not have to say anything for Seonghwa to understand how he felt.</p><p>"I know you're uncertain," He continued. "But I need a <em>purpose, </em>San. And if this is it, then I will take it. I cannot stand idly by as Hyunjin's friend without doing something to help him."</p><p>"I believe you," San murmured. "I just... don't fancy the thought of you getting caught in something that you cannot get out of, that's all. Promise me that I will see you soon."</p><p>Seonghwa looked down at himself, toying with a button on his shirt.</p><p>"Of course you will."</p><p>"I... still need to treat you to something for your birthday, after all."</p><p>It sounded like nothing more than a general statement for a moment. Only when it registered did Seonghwa pause in place, his eyes widening.</p><p>"... Oh," He noised.</p><p>"I'm a few days late, but I never know when I can get to you. You must say that you're going to be careful in everything you do."</p><p>"I... I will be."</p><p>San let out a soft sigh to fill up the line. "I'm glad to hear that. I won't keep you any longer. Please see me soon."</p><p>The line became fuzzy with disconnection, and Seonghwa laid the phone back down in its place, his fingertips buzzing and lips parted in surprise.</p><p>So far from home, he had turned twenty-two, and it had passed him by much too fast for him to keep up with.</p><p>✣</p><p>"Seonghwa, do you think you could zip this vest? It does... not seem to fit like it once did."</p><p>Yunho had one hand placed on the staircase banister while the other clutched his vest and held it together at the back. It visibly strained against his chest and a blush reddened the tips of his ears with an expression almost apologetic.</p><p>"I promise you, it fit perfectly the last time I wore it."</p><p>The bobby pin in Seonghwa's hand was placed in between his teeth as he ordered Yunho to turn around, closing his fingers around the vest's zipper. It was a pretty thing — jade green, and it brought attention to Yunho's eyes.</p><p>"Breathe in," He said, and yanked upward. Yunho gasped as if all the breath had been stolen from him at once, and the vest looked a mere brush away from popping back open. Amused, Seonghwa grinned.</p><p>"If it helps, I'm sure it's due to muscle gain."</p><p>He gently squeezed Yunho's bicep much to the man's surprise and continued his way upstairs, the bobby pin moving to his collar. For the sake of his own sanity, he forced himself into a cheerful mood in the hopes that the make-believe would become a reality in due time. So far, it had done little, but even a little was progress.</p><p>He had just reached the top step when the open door to Hongjoong's study caught his eye, and the tension in his shoulders melted away. Politely, he tapped with one knuckle before he tilted his head to peek inside.</p><p>Hongjoong was only half-dressed for the gala, bent over his desk and rifling through one of the drawers. Once he brandished something Seonghwa could not see, he looked up to smile at him, and Seonghwa felt himself grow faint at the vibrant rush of blood straight to his face.</p><p>"Are you all waiting for me?" The man queried, stepping closer as if his shirt was not completely unbuttoned. Seonghwa reminded himself to maintain eye contact, but Hongjoong's bare skin was something not even he could manage to ignore with eyes that flitted downward and betrayed him for one fleeting second.</p><p>"O - oh, uhm... n - no," He managed after a brief struggle with his tongue. His eyes found Hongjoong's again and he cleared his throat. "I'm not... ready yet... e - either."</p><p>Hongjoong nodded, tightening the bracers on his arms with his teeth. Loudly, Seonghwa swallowed.</p><p>"Yeosang said that he would stay here and keep the manor open for us," He explained, rubbing his hands together once the leather bracers had been put into place. "Do you still feel okay about everything?"</p><p>
  <em>Of course I do.</em>
</p><p>The assurance laid just on the tip of Seonghwa's tongue, begging him to speak it into existence. Maybe if he lied about it, it would become true to <em>someone.</em></p><p>Hongjoong stared down at him with an expectant gaze, and he could not lie to him.</p><p>"... You truly think that Choi Jongho is one of them?" He asked, voice so low that he wondered if Hongjoong could even hear him. After a moment of pause, the man nodded.</p><p>"I am sure of it."</p><p>Seonghwa bit his lip and laid a hand on the doorframe to steady himself. Hongjoong's warmth was a mere arm's-length away, and some caged part of him desperately longed to seek it out.</p><p>"Hongjoong, swear to me that none of you will be hurt," He murmured. "Whether or not what you say is true, you must swear it."</p><p>It was not a difficult thing to look Hongjoong in the eyes when he steeled himself. His tenacity undoubtedly came as a surprise, and yet Hongjoong smiled in a way that suggested he knew he would see it again eventually.</p><p>"This is what you worry for?" He queried, reaching out to take Seonghwa's hands in his own. His heart leapt to his throat and he flinched at the contact, gentle as it was. His thumb brushed delicately over Seonghwa's knuckles.</p><p>"Yes," He said, and dipped his head low to gaze at their hands. "Now you must swear to me that you will not act recklessly."</p><p>He knew he sounded strange, begging the professional to do his job. Nonetheless, his heart demanded it of him, and Hongjoong did not fight what he wanted.</p><p>"I swear to it," He whispered, and the hearth fire behind his eyes seemed to burn a little brighter.</p><p>He'd gotten what he asked for, and he should have wanted to part from him at that very moment.</p><p>Yet, it seemed hard as he slowly disentangled their fingers, stepping back from the threshold.</p><p>"Thank you," He said, and his voice wavered. In hopes that it was not heard, he moved at once to his own room, heart hammering in his chest and beating blood through his ears.</p><p>How he always managed to look like a fool in front of <em>him, </em>he would never know.</p><p>He heard Hongjoong's footsteps as he left his study and entered his own room, presumably to dress for the gala. Ah, the gala — that was an event that was still happening. Shaking his head to clear himself from his daydreams, he pulled the pin from his collar and tossed his shirt to the floor to replace it with a new one, throwing his hair into a loose topknot for the sake of keeping it out of his eyes.</p><p>The clothes from Rosie's still fit as they were meant to, and he was pleased to find that nothing had changed in the days that had passed between his purchase. Careful hands lined his eyes with black and applied a fresh coat of gloss to his lips, just enough to render him <em>almost </em>unrecognizable.</p><p>Then, the corset.</p><p>It was still pretty, even as he looked at it days later. His chest still felt light when he held it in his hands and pressed it against his midriff to tighten it around his waist. One glance sent to the mirror left him breathless, and it was not brought on by the laces.</p><p>Those <em>damned </em>laces.</p><p>To ask for help once was an embarrassment; a second time was a sin. Nonetheless, he needed it, and his eyes widened when he heard the familiar creak of Hongjoong stepping on the floorboard as he left his room. Quickly, he flung open his own door.</p><p>"H - Hongjoong!"</p><p>The man paused on the top step and turned to look back at him. For a moment, it seemed that his eyes could not find a place to rest on Seonghwa's figure; they flitted up and down over him, and then gazed at his glossed lips before he ever looked him in the eye. Seonghwa faltered, catching himself with a hand on the wall.</p><p>"I need your help again... please."</p><p>Hongjoong approached and he hastily stepped back into his room, collecting his wits about him. He could not place what was wrong with him, for he could not <em>think; </em>anything he meant to tell himself popped and fizzled out once Hongjoong was before him again.</p><p>He hummed, a polite order to turn around, and Seonghwa obliged with hands folded neatly at his front. Even through the fabric of his shirt, he was made familiar once more with the feeling of Hongjoong's fingertips against his skin, ghosting over him to find the laces and pull them gently into secure little knots. With each breath he took in, another was stolen from him, and he could not find it within himself to care for it.</p><p>"Thank you," He mumbled, reaching back to feel the laces for himself once they were done. He raised a hand to release his hair and it fell around his face in that way he hated — he wrinkled his nose and searched for the bobby pin when Hongjoong spoke up.</p><p>"Don't," He said softly. "Leave it like that."</p><p>Seonghwa blinked in surprise, looking up at him.</p><p>"I... I like it," He finished.</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>"... Okay," He breathed.</p><p>He could not even remember where the pin was, anyway.</p><p>Hongjoong took his lower lip in between his teeth, and Seonghwa watched wordlessly as his eyes searched his face, lingering a little too long on each tiny detail.</p><p>"S - Seonghwa, you... you look beautiful."</p><p>
  <em>Beautiful.</em>
</p><p>How he did like to hear that.</p><p>"I have... something I want to give you," He quickly continued, despite how Seonghwa's cheeks warmed and his heart raced. "Do what you will with it, but I will feel far better knowing you have it."</p><p>Seonghwa's hand was taken once more and he allowed it, his fingers uncurling and closing once more around the cold hilt of an ornate dagger. His eyes widened, and his reflection mirrored him in the blade.</p><p>"Y - you want... me to have this?" He asked, and Hongjoong nodded.</p><p>"The blade is silver," He explained. "It will keep you safe should anything happen tonight. Once again, I ask that you... that you look after yourself. I will look after you, too."</p><p>It weighed heavy in Seonghwa's hand, and yet it seemed to fit into his palm perfectly. He brushed his thumb over rubies embedded in the hilt.</p><p>"... Thank you."</p><p>There were many more things he wanted to say that trapped themselves inside his throat, and they all died away once more when Hongjoong smiled and extended a hand for him to take.</p><p>"Come... the night will be over before we ever know it."</p>
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